Future Tense
by xxVisionGirlxx
Summary: Destiny. Now.
1. Prologue

Title: Future Tense

Author: Marcy (DHCgirl)

Rating: PG

Content: Clois

Summary: Post-Devoted. (Summary in chapter 1)

Spoilers: None

Disclaimer: No infringement is intended, no profit is made.

Distribution: Prologue, Krtyptonsite, DTS, My Site; anyone else, just drop me a note.

Notes: So this is my first attempt at a multi-chapter fic - I'm normally a one shot kinda gal. I HATE not knowing where a story is going, start to finish. Also, darker than I normally go. So this is going to be a little adventure for me. A wonderland tour, if you will. I'll try my best not to muck it up. I've decided to go unbeta'd - I'll keep the headaches to myself.

Feedback: Hopefully in my future...

Prologue:

Under the soft, white beam of the flashlight, the cave's scratchy runes hummed iridescent. In Clark's steady hand the light trawled along the wall. As it met each symbol, his future laid exposed. Pulsing before him.

"What are we looking for?"

Lana slowly stepped beside him. He watched as she took a deep, steadying breath, squaring her shoulders. Her hand reached up and slipped gently over his own. He allowed her to guide it towards the darkness to their right.

"There."

She had stopped on one of the glyphs; a wavy black symbol that reminded Clark of the ocean.

He looked down to find her transfixed. "You know these caves, Clark. Better than anyone." Her voice sounded hollow. Distant.

"Lana--"

"I need your help," she interrupted, quickly. Her gaze snapped to his own and he saw something flash in her eyes. Fear. Unease. Another deep breath and she had dimmed it, a steely resolution taking its place.

She left his side and walked in front of the light. He watched as she brought a shaky hand to the hem of her shirt. Slowly, she began to hitch it up, revealing the small of her back.

Clark frowned. "You got a tattoo?"

Lana's laugh was sharp and laced with bitterness. "Not exactly." She ran her fingers across the crest of the inky marking. On their second trip they dug harder. "I can't give you any real answers. I don't have any. Not by a long shot. But when I was in Paris something happened. Something got inside of me, stole twelve hours of my life and left me with this."

Clark wore his confusion for her to see. Blatant as a neon sign. He reached out, tentatively, to touch her skin. Inches away, he paused, his eyes seeking permission. Lana nodded.

"Whatever is responsible for this wants me back here, Clark. I can feel it." She shot another quick look at the cave wall before continuing. "It's like I'm--"

"Connected," Clark finished. The word hung above them, like the decorations that adorned the craggy walls. Lana looked down at her own decoration, which stood raw under the stripping light. She let go and the fabric dropped like a curtain.

Silent now, she took the time to smooth out her blouse. Once. Twice. "Do you know what it means?"

The question fell dead.

"Lana," Clark paused, searching for the right words. The right apology. "I'm sorry. I can't help you." It didn't seem like enough - it never did. In the absence of anything more to offer her, he began to turn away.

"Please, Clark," Lana pleaded, pulling him back to her. "If it's something bad...If it's..." Her eyes shifted wildly, wet with fear. "I need to know."

Clark tensed, guilt snaking up his spine and setting him rigid . He looked around the cave and the chalky drawings, glaring at them in contempt. They seemed to smirk back, mocking him. As if they were delighted with their ability to flaunt his strangeness, and set him apart from the world.

Their mere existence robbed him of any delusion of normality. Of a future that included choice.

And now they'd swallowed her, too.

His thoughts were interrupted by a dull roar, like thunder in the distance. Beside him the atmosphere began to shift, flecks of dirt and gravel cylconing by his feet. The air became electric, white hot bolts snapping like firecrackers.

And then the world tore open.

Clark stepped back, pushing Lana roughly behind him. The two watched as the fiery halo of light swirled wildly, sparking white and red as it grew. A phosphorescent whirlpool. Clark shielded his eyes as it became blinding.

The portal groaned and heaved. And just when Clark thought it would consume them both, it did the opposite. It spit someone out.

A woman.

She hit the cave floor hard, skidding across the dirt before collapsing in a heap, face down, her limbs limp and twisted like a rag doll's.

"Oh my god," Lana gasped. She rushed to the woman's side, dropping to her knees. Her hands moved idly in the air as she struggled with what to do next.

Clark stood, dumbfounded . "Where did she come from?" He sent his flashlight on a dizzy hunt for an explanation. The figure was gone. The cave had returned to shadows.

On the ground Lana had landed tentatively on a course of action, placing two firm hands on the woman's shoulders. "Hello?" She shook her gently. "Are you okay?"

"Lana?" Clark offered her his flashlight. She shook her head and produced a small penlight from her back pocket.

Clark nodded, satisfied, and made his way to the spot from which the woman had come. He searched for an opening. The wall had no holes. No cracks.

"It's solid," he concluded, finally.

He stepped back, suddenly aware of his position. When he did he found himself staring at the two-headed figure that would rule his future . A destiny marked by betrayal. He brought his hand back to the wall and traced a path across his story. Each image was a vision of isolation. Maybe he was meant for loneliness, he thought soberly.

Clark stopped. His fingers lingered on a long crisscrossed box with a diamond center. A reprieve from the cold?

His soulmate...

"Clark, I think you need to see this."

He reluctantly pulled himself away and jogged over to Lana, kneeling down beside her. As she continued to examine the object in her hands, he took his first good look at the unconscious woman on floor. He watched as her chest slowly rose and fell and took it as a good sign.

But still he was struck by her helplessness. He reached out, instinctively, to sweep the hair from her face.

Lana caught his arm .

"I..." Her words trailed off. She shook her head in disbelief before handing him the small, oaktag card. She motioned for him to read it.

It was a press pass, the Daily Planet logo stretching boldly across the top. Below it a picture stared up at him. A wry, familiar smile.

And below that, a name.

Lois Lane Kent.


	2. Awakenings

1Sorry this took so long. Multi-chapter fic is..well...hard. That's why I stick to one-shotters. I appreciate any feedback you wanna send my way!

Part 1: Awakenings

Clark watched the woman on the couch. Her fingers gripped the cuffs of her once white blazer, now dirt-streaked from her violent entrance into the caves. She shifted, restless, her body tensing in quick bursts. Beneath tightly closed lids, her eyes twitched wildly and arrhythmic.

She looked as thoroughly beaten as he felt.

Crouched beside her, Lana dipped a dishtowel into a container of warm, sudsy water. She slowly wrung it out, and gently applied it to the large gash that streaked across her forehead, temple to temple. The woman flinched beneath her touch, her once blank face stretching into a mask of pain. Lana whispered an apology the woman would never hear before rising to her feet.

"It can't be her. It's not," Clark informed her as she passed.

Lana didn't stop. She walked to the opposite side of the room and set her supplies down on his desk. "Well, it looks like Lois but older. Two very compelling arguments for her case."

Lana had insisted that they bring the woman back to Clark's loft. Regardless of who the woman was - or wasn't - she needed their help. He had voiced his protests, but ultimately agreed that Smallville General would a be far too conspicuous alternative.

Clark had carried her home, a lifeless bundle in his arms. Along the way, he found himself sneaking glances at her face. His mind rolled back to weeks before, and the loud and unblushing Lois Lane that had crashed into his life – holding the image there with a mental thumbtack.

He searched for variations. A birthmark. A freckle. Any flaw in the facade that would betray her real identity. A single, solitary difference to hang his hopes on.

It hadn't come.

"A person from the future." Clark shook his head. "Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?"

Lana was beside him now. She crossed her arms and leaned back against the bannister. "Oh, you mean like a spontaneous tattoo? Or lust-inducing sports drinks? Or, oh I don't know, just about everything else that happens in this town?"

"She's not Lois Lane," he repeated, firmly.

His eyes swept over her. Something. There had to be something...

"You're right. She's not." He felt Lana move closer. "She's Lois Lane _Kent_."

On the couch, the woman shifted again, and a soft moan escaped from her lips.

"That's the real sticking point here, isn't it Clark?" Lana pressed.

Clark set his jaw. At his sides, his fists clenched tightly. "Are you telling me that you ever thought that I would marry Lois of all people?" he shot back, tearing his gaze away from the unconscious woman for the first time since they had brought her back and setting it squarely on his accuser.

Lana shrugged. "Of course not. I had you two pegged as a fling." Off his astonished look, Lana rolled her eyes. "Don't look so surprised, Clark. It verges on insulting."

Clark gaped, wide-eyed and wordless. He struggled to protest, but the argument was somewhere beyond him. Frustrated, he raked his hands through his hair.

"Hey, she's awake."

Clark turned to find the woman sitting herself up, letting out a dull groan as she did. She wobbled slightly, and braced herself on the cushions.

As Lana moved towards her patient, he quickly blocked her way. "Where are you going?"

She looked at him like he was certifiable. "To talk to Lois..." she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"That is not Lois!" Clark seethed through gritted teeth. He threw a quick look towards the waking woman and then dialed his voice down to a harsh whisper. "Maybe it's a long lost aunt. Maybe it's some plastic surgeon's idea of a sick joke. I don't know. But there is no way that..." Clark trailed off. He watched the woman sway. Woozy hand to forehead, her sleeve slid down to reveal a flash of gold.

Clark took a step forward, focused.

On her right wrist was a bracelet. A crisscrossed box with a diamond center - the cave scrawlings molded in gold and jade. It was the one he was going to give to his soulmate.

Clark reeled backwards, the scene a wind-knock shot to the solar plexus. His world slowed as the implications hit.

"It's her. It's really her."

On shaky legs, he started forward.

Lana tagged behind, confused. "Did I just miss a turn somewhere?"

Lois' head was at her knees now. She drew in long, deep breathes as if trying to quell impending nausea.

"Lois?"

At her name, her eyes flew up.

"Clark?"

And then she followed in suit.

"Oh, Clark! Thank God." She wrapped a tight pair of arms around his neck and held on as if her life depended on it. Clark stood, rigid. "Is it really you?" If he could have managed a laugh, he would have. She was questioning _his_ identity.

She pulled back, and looked him over with a mixture of excitement and relief. Eager hands met his face. His chest. Confirming his presence, limb by limb.

"Lana!" Lois greeted the girl behind him with a smile, and much to Clark's surprise, a hug. "You don't know how happy I am to see you two." Her attention turned to herself, as she scanned her front and back. "You don't know how happy I am to see _me_. Portals aren't exactly the most reliable way to get from here to there in one piece." As she took in her surroundings, her brow furrowed. "The loft? How did I - -?"

She had looked to Clark for the answer, but he didn't offer one. Words were still just out of reach. Lana stepped in.

"We found you in the caves," she explained. "We thought it was best if we brought you back here."

Lois frowned at this. "Did anyone see you?"

Lana thought for a moment. "No," she answered.

"Good." Lois looked around. "Wow. I think I'm having the world's most literal flashback." Clark watched as she toured his room, running her hand along each item as she passed it. She picked up a framed picture off his desk and examined it with an amused look. "Ha! Look at Chloe's hair!" She waved it before them, as if it meant anything.

"So you really are from the future?" Lana asked, not because she was unsure, but because someone had to.

Lois shrugged. "Well, ten years, give or take. Not exactly flying cars and jetpacks, but yeah, the future..." she trailed off, her attention stolen by the telescope at the window. She scurried over and pulled it towards her, bending over and admiring the view.

"Do you remember the night we caught Chloe in the bushes with that guy, Clark? She was so mortified. And then she refused to believe we weren't purposefully spying. I mean, we were, but she didn't believe us." She laughed and shook her head. "No, of course you don't. Sorry, I'll fight the urge to stroll down a memory lane that has yet to be formed. Seeing the loft like this - it just kind of opens the floodgates, ya know?"

"It's different now?" Lana asked. "In the future, I mean."

Lois nodded. "Martha took up sculpting a few years back and converted it into a studio. I had one of her trial runs in my apartment for months. It looked like a giant ceramic dinner roll."

Clark just stared. He wanted to grab her. Shake her. Demand that she treat this situation with the seriousness it deserved. Hell, any kind of seriousness. Instead she breezed through, dodging the obvious questions with idle chit chat and indulging in a past that hadn't passed. She had tossed a live grenade into his life, and she had done it with a shoulder shrug.

And for what?

He blinked to find her attention zeroed in on him.

"So, Clark. Can we expect a response from you any time today? It was a while ago, but I don't remember any part of your teenage years being dedicated to the study of mime," she teased, lightly. Her smile was easy. Infuriating.

Clark finally found his voice. "Why are you here?" he snapped.

Her eyebrows flew up at his directness. "Ahh...straight to final Jeopardy, huh?" She crossed her arms and studied him carefully. He kept his face a picture of blankness. Unreadable. Or at least to most. But as it appeared, not to her. Because after a moment she smirked, satisfied, having found whatever it was she was looking for. After patting his chest, she spun on her heels. "Never let it be said that Lois Lane couldn't get right down to business," she said, making her way back to the couch.

"Kent."

She stopped short. "What?"

He felt it deep down. Resentment. It was thick and swirling, clouding his judgement. Choking any semblance of civility.

"Your name. It's Lois. Lane. Kent." He didn't bother to disguise the icy tone. He wanted to make her feel the same unease that had his own stomach in a vice.

She whirled around at breakneck speed. "How did you...?" He cut her off, dangling her press pass in front of her. She cast her eyes to the ceiling and sighed. "Damn it. I thought I took that thing off. Well, so much for leaving that can of worms unopened."

Clark exploded, bridging their distance with three long strides. "You were going to keep it from me??"

She took the card from him and shoved it into her jacket pocket.

"I was going to keep a lot of things from you, Clark," she said, bluntly. "You're no good to me if you're catatonic."

"Who are you to decide what I do and do not have a right to know?" he asked. And then after a moment of feigned consideration, he answered his own question. "Oh, that's right. My wife." His laugh was sharp, caustic.

Lois went completely still as she stared at him, stricken. He knew it was a low blow, but he hadn't been fully aware of just how deep it could cut. It had affected her. But why?

And then it hit him.

Because in a different place - another time - he was hers.

As he watched her struggle to maintain her composure, anger quickly bowed to a stronger set of emotions - guilt. Shame. He had gone too far...

"I should go," Lana edged into the silence.

"No. Stay." Lois quickly swept the tears from her eyes and across the bruise that was beginning to blossom on her cheek. When she winced, he did too. "I'm sorry. We aren't getting off on the right foot, here. I owe you explanations, and I'm going to give them to you." It was addressed to them both, but he knew the words were for him.

Lois went to the couch and sat down. She picked up her suede shoulder bag, the one Lana had carried back from the cave, and set it in her lap.

"Maybe you should sit down for this," she said, motioning to the chair beside her. Clark didn't move. "Or hover menacingly above me. That works, too."

The contents of her bag clanked and rattled as she rifled through it. After a minute she had produced a large, glossy photo, and urged him to take it.

"Jason Trask," she explained. "One of America's finest, or at least he was until he started abusing military resources to outfit his own crackpot crusades. Funneling government money and resources in some misguided attempt to eradicate su—" Lois clipped herself short. "Not important. Anyway, all his efforts got him were a dishonorable discharge and government blackballing." She sighed, easing back onto the couch. "But funny thing about the fanatically obsessed - they're not easily dissuaded. He started looking in the private sector for like-minded whackos to foot the bill. Well, he scored big time, landing the granddaddy of all investors. One who not only had money to burn, but also had something that Uncle Sam could never provide. The Scroll of Templar."

"What's that?" Lana asked.

"Basically? A Thomas Guide to time travel."

Clark shook his head, confused. "I don't get it. If someone has the ability to time travel at their fingertips, why not just use it themselves?" he asked, finally sitting down.

"Because, like I said. It's dangerous." Lois leaned forward. "Time travel isn't an exact science. Actually, it's not a science at all - more like supernatural crap shoot. High risk with Vegas odds you'll end up in the Jurassic Era with your limbs reversed. It's a gamble most aren't willing to make."

Clark eyeballed her. "You did."

Her lips twisted up into a rueful smile. "I had too many chips in the pot." He saw something he'd only seen in the Lois of his world once before - that morning at Chloe's grave. Deep regret. Heartbreak. It was a different Lois. "Plus, running headlong into danger? Kinda my MO." And it was the same old Lois.

"If Trask had the scroll, how did you get here?"

"One of my more reliable informants caught wind of what Trask was planning and tipped me off. Turns out that there was one other copy of the scrolls being held in some classified department of STARlabs. And luckily Clark and I have friends in high places. So Trask jumped and on the other side of Metropolis I followed."

Clark looked down at the picture. The man in it stared up at him, his face a set of hard lines. He found it...unsettling.

"So what does he want?" Clark asked Lois, finally.

Her eyes pinned him. "You dead."


	3. Shift

1Okay, here's part two. I'll try to make this my last preface that includes an apology about lateness. This chapter is dedicated to all the Pimpers of the Clois. It's super indulgent just for y'all.

Since it's been asked (and, admittedly, and issue in this chapter) Lois is 27/28ish. Also a point often brought up - my take on Lana? Well, I have big plans for her here - so I'm trying to make her pretty cool. So, while this is unabashedly Clois, tell all your Lana-lovin' friends that this is a good time.

And just 'cause sometimes its fun to know - I've been writing this story to pretty much the Jimmy Eat World's "Futures" album alone. (Because when I got a theme, I stick to it mightily)

Part 2: Shift

On the old wicker chair in the corner of the loft, with two perfectly plucked eyebrows raised to the sky, Lana Lang was the picture of confusion.

"Why would someone want to kill Clark?" she asked, incredulously.

Tension pulsed off the two figures on the couch in waves. Their eyes were set in a deadlock that neither seemed willing to break.

It took a moment, but Lois finally pulled away. "A few months back - my time - Clark wrote the expose that brought Trask's dirty dealings to light. Won him a Kerth. And, well, a place on Trask's hit list."

Clark's brows knit in a lighter kind of surprise. "I'm a reporter?"

Lois nodded. "And a damn good one. Of course, you learned from the best," she boasted, a proud grin stretching across her face.

Clark took a deep breath as the pieces began to fall into place. Slowly, he felt the flash frost that had chilled his disposition begin to melt away.

"So you came here to save me?" The words sounded horrible as they came out, each one pricking him with guilt.

Lois smiled, wryly. "Makes you rethink the less than warm welcome you gave me, doesn't it?" In her eyes the look of betrayal still echoed.

His heart twisted. "I..." Clark floundered. "I'm sorry. I mean, thank you - -"

She swept his apology off with a sharp flick of the wrist. "Save it, Clark. The time for the tickertape parade has come and gone."

He nodded, sadly, He had deserved that.

"Hey," she soothed, her voice softer now. Lois reached out and took his hand. She leaned in to catch his eyes beneath his bowed head and will them up to her own. "Don't go brooding martyr on me. Not when it's so important."

He softly nodded, agreeing and submitting. She flashed him an encouraging smile, and he felt himself returning it immediately. A knee-jerk reaction.

"So what do we do now?" Lana asked, shattering the silence."I mean, does this psycho know where Clark lives?"

Lois pulled her hand back. As he felt it leave his own, Clark fought the urge to intercept its retreat.

"It's not an issue," she explained. "We were able to calibrate it so that I'd get here two days early - cut him off at the proverbial pass. So we have some time."

"We should call Lex," Clark suggested, suddenly.

Lois bristled. "We are not calling Lex Luthor."

Clark clung tightly to his idea. "But he has eyes and ears all over this town. This state, even. He can help - -"

"No," Lois snapped, her voice rising for the first time. She paused for a moment to even it out. "Look, what I've just told you can't leave this room. Nobody can know I'm here. Not Chloe. Not the Kents. And especially not me."

Lana frowned. "Admittedly I'm new to the whole time travel thing, but isn't it a little late for the 'you not knowing' phase of the plan?"

"Not me," Lois corrected, tapping her chest. "The younger me. Lois Lane; the college years. There would be huge repercussions if I were to run into me...her..." Lois sputtered off, annoyed. "And the resulting pronoun issues are just the tip of the iceberg."

"Well, my parents are out of town for the weekend, so they won't be a factor. You're at Met U right now. And Chloe's taking the whole week to tour prospective campuses." Clark ticked the list off on his fingers. "So it shouldn't be a problem."

Lois still looked unsure. "Good. Let's just hope I don't get a yen for the simple life."

Suddenly, a sharp ring cut through the room.

It took a second before Lana realized that the sound was coming from her coat pocket. She fumbled a bit before successfully pulling out her phone.

Lana flashed an apologetic smile and answered. "Hello?" She held up a finger and scooted off to the corner of the room . As she left, Clark heard her rush a quick explanation. "I didn't forget. Something just came up."

He looked back at Lois to find her hand in her bag. It wasn't the first time he had picked up on this. He had seen her unconsciously slipping it in and out during her narrative.

"What's that?"

"What?"

He motioned to her hand. "You keep reaching for something in your bag."

"Oh," she said, caught. She pulled out a yellowing, time-worn piece of paper. "My ticket home," she explained. The Scroll of Templar, Clark realized. He wanted to reach out and examine it further, but thought better of it. Out of the protection of the bag, Lois had it in a death-grip.

"I just need to keep it close." She laughed, embarrassed. "It's silly, I know." She wouldn't meet his eyes, instead smoothing out the scroll's fraying corners with her thumb.

Clark wondered how she had managed to stay strong during all of this. She was so far from home...

"I'm sorry, I have to be somewhere," Lana apologized, walking back into the room. "But I don't want to leave if - -"

"Go," Lois instructed, succinctly. She pushed the scroll back into the bag. "We'll call you if anything happens." Lana lingered a split second too long and Lois was on her feet, shooing her off with two hands. "Go. It'll be fine."

Lana gave them both one more apologetic look before rushing down the stairs and out the barn door.

Lois turned to Clark and sighed. "You know I love Lana. I do. But 10 years later and she's still all about the drama."

A nervous laugh tremmored in his throat. They were alone.

"So..." he drew the word out.

"So."

To Clark the silence was deafening. And for the first time he was disappointed that Lois Lane had no compulsion to fill it with words.

He stood up, quickly.

"I'm sorry. This is kind of–" He scratched the back of his head. "Strange."

She looked amused. "Don't resort to understatement on my behalf."

Clark tried again. "Cataclysmically, life-alteringly, world turned upside down strange."

"Better," she said, her sharp nod like an exclamation point on the thought.

Clark stuffed his hands into his pockets. "I don't want you to think I'm not appreciative of what you're doing," he edged. "Coming to save my life and all."

"Well, you'll get your turn soon enough." She thought for a moment. "Many, many turns. A virtual lifetime membership into the Lifesavers of America club. Me? I'm a rookie."

Once again silence lingered between them. Clark's mind began to laundry list the things he wanted to ask her. Needed to ask her.

"Can I ask you stuff? About what I have to look forward to, I mean. There's so much I want to know. Like... Will I be successful? Will I be happy?"

"I'm a reporter, not a magic eightball," she deadpanned.

"But you must know. Can't you tell me anything about my future?"

"You've gotten a pretty substantial sneak preview already - career, bride-to-be, the knowledge that you'll survive your adolescent years." She frowned. "Now you're just being greedy."

"Please. Can't you tell me anything more?"

Lois leaned forward, and cast her voice to a low, dangerous whisper. "I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you." She patted his chest. "And then my Quantum Leap will have been for nothing." She finished it off with a dazzling smile, before moving over towards the window.

Of all the things he had been presented with in the past hour or so, the changes in Lois were the most amazing. He had always thought she was pretty, beautiful even. But maturity had made her breath-taking. Her rough-edged, caustic demeanor had evened out into an effortless grace. She was still sarcastic, and biting, and all the things that made Lois Lane special. But she was softer, somehow, and it was intoxicating.

It drew him in, like gravity.

Suddenly he realized that he had been staring. He shook himself out, and hoped she hadn't noticed.

Luckily her attention was on the vast expanse of the Kent farm. "I can't believe its nighttime already," she said, wistfully.

Clark went to her side. The dark sheet of night was flecked with stars. The bright moon hung low, and sent a soft white beam towards the barn. In the moonlight Lois seemed to glow.

He moved closer, unsure why. But his mind had left the equation some time ago. She was drawing him in, her mere presence like an irresistible siren song.

Lois looked up at him, finally, and they both stilled.

Clark felt like he was sinking. He held his breath and let himself fall...

The moment was broken by a sharp snap, as the light above them flickered and died, leaving them in darkness. Clark coughed, and stepped back awkwardly.

"I'll go get the ladder," he said, side-stepping around a still-confused Lois .

"Why?"

He spun to face her. "What?"

"Why don't you just..?" She made a motion with her hand. A loop-da-loop, like a rollercoaster.

He looked at her, blankly.

She sighed. "Fly, Clark," she explained, this time flapping her arms.

"I - -"

"Oh, right," she broke in, shaking her head. "You don't go anti-gravity until sophomore year of college. I really should have brought a time line with me for reference - instead I'm left with perpetual foot-in-mouth."

Clark's heart was pounding a drumroll in his throat, while panic took a stronghold. As he stood exposed before her, his words tripped and fell. "So you know that I'm...I mean, you know about - -"

"Your past? From A to Zed. Krypton, super-powers, the whole bit. You actually thought that you would marry me before letting me in on the family secret? Please, Clark. You of all people should know you're way too much of a guilt-case to ever do that." As she answered, her focus was on the fizzled lightbulb, the inner workings of a deep contemplation revealed by her scrunched expression. Soon an epiphany flashed across her face. "Oh Stroke of brilliance." She set off for the couch.

He followed. "So it doesn't bother you?"

"Nope," she responded, off-handedly. She dropped to her knees and stuck her hand under the skirt of the couch. She reached far back, her whole arm disappearing underneath. Her brow scrunched in consternation and her tongue poked out of the corner of her mouth as she fished blindly."Aha! Here we go."

Lois pulled out a large shoe-box. She put it to her ear and gave it a shake. The contents rattled inside.

Clark stood, dumbfounded. "How did you know about those?"

Lois smiled. "Oh, I am very familiar with the Clark Kent emergency ambiance kit. You broke this out on our 4th date, when the lightbulb conveniently - - "

"Died out?" Clark tried.

"Exploded into a million pieces," Lois corrected, flatly.

Clark flushed, embarrassed.

"Anyway, you used these very scented candles in a lame attempt to romance me." She brought the box over to where he stood. She removed the top and began pulling out the candles inside.

"So I'm guessing it didn't work."

"Oh, it worked," she admitted. Lois laughed at the memory. "We ended up knocking one of the votives off the dresser and into a bale of hay. Almost burnt down the whole barn." Lois lined the candles along the bannister. "Your dad rushed in to find us both in various stages of undress tossing handfuls of dirt onto the flames," She shot him a knowing look. "And you thought we got a lecture that time they caught us commingling in the Kent family bathroom."

Clark didn't respond. And for the life of him he didn't know how to. Visions of flames and undress swirled in his mind. Unable to do anything else, he blinked.

Lois laughed and shook her head, grabbing the last two candles from the box. "Can you give me a hand with these?" she asked.

He felt around his pockets, feebly. "I don't have any matches."

Lois rolled her eyes. "Oh, gee. It's too bad that you don't have, oh I don't know, heat vision of some kind." She held the candles up to his face.

He eyed her wearily for a moment before sending a set of quick shots down to the candles. The two wicks sparked and ignited. She smiled a thank-you, and set to lighting th rest of the candles. After a moment, the barn was cast in warm light.

"There. Much better." Lois set one of the candles on the desk. She tipped the other towards her wrist and looked down at her watch. "Ok, it's been about an hour and a dimension since I've had a good cup of coffee. With the Ma and Pa safely out of state I think I'm going to make my way to the kitchen and put on a pot. Milk and two sugars?"

It took a minute before Clark realized she was talking to him. "I don't really drink - -"

"Milk and two sugars it is," she said, clapping her hands and ignoring him completely.

Before he could respond, she had jogged down the stairs and out of sight.

Clark closed his eyes and sighed a deep, lung-full of air.

Lois Lane knew about him. All of him. He had been able to tell her everything and it hadn't sent her screaming for the hills. She hadn't called him a freak. Exposed his weirdness. Left him.

She accepted him. She loved him.

The sound of Clark's cell phone tore him from his thoughts.

"Hello?" A familiar voice greeted him cheerily on the other end of the line. "Mom, hi." It was nice to hear her voice. It set Clark firmly back into the present. "No, I'm fine. Yes I saw the meatloaf in the refrigerator."

Clark strolled around, nodding his head and mm-hmm-ing to his mother's barrage of questions. He noticed that one of the candles had flickered out and relit it from a distance. "How's aunt Mable?"

He allowed the phone to dip slowly away from his ear as his attention focused on something else.

Lois' bag.

He gave a quick look around the room before cautiously moving to the couch. "Uh-huh," he responded to whatever his mother had just asked him, distracted. He looked at Lois' bag intently. He could only imagine what sort of things it contained. What kind of answers it could give him. His hand lingered over the buckle as he fought his conscience. Caving to curiosity, he bit his bottom lip and slowly lifted up the flap --

"Clark, I can't find the coffee filters."

Clark jerked his hand back and crammed it into his pocket. On the phone his mother was calling his name.

"What?" he replied, quickly. "Oh that was just Lois." The second the words came out of his mouth he knew he has messed up. He looked over to find Lois stunned, with a little bit of mad-as-hell thrown in for good measure. "Um, sure." He covered the receiver with his hand, and held the phone out for her to take. "She wants to talk to you."

Lois shot him the look of death before taking it. She took a deep breath, plastered on a smile she hoped would translate, and answered.

"Hey, Ma–err–Mrs. Kent." She pulled her voice into a high, youthful squeak. "Oh, yes I realize it's a little late, but Clark was just helping me with a ..." She stretched for a lie. "History project. It's a real killer."

Clark shook his head. If his parents only knew how true that was.

He watched as Lois wandered around the room, taking in whatever his mother was dishing out, her mouth opening and closing as she fought to get a word in edge-wise.

"Yes. I love meatloaf." Lois looked at him and shook her head, signaling the contrary. "No, I wasn't planning on staying the night–" Lois tried again. "But I'm not –" She sighed. "Yes, I'll tell Clark to take the couch. Thanks, Mrs. Kent." Lois flipped off the phone and handed it back.

"It's official. Your parents are going to kill you when they get home."

Clark shrugged. "I'll just explain that we're married."

Lois studied him carefully. "Getting a little cocky, aren't we?" She flashed the ring on her finger. "This didn't come easy, Bucko."

Clark smirked. "Let me guess, the first time I proposed you decked me."

Her eyes sparkled as her lips curved into a wicked smile. "Something like that."

Clark moved closer.

_She accepted him..._

He reached a tentative hand out and touched her cheek.

Lois gasped, and stepped back. Clark stared dumbly at his own hand, trying to figure out what exactly had possessed it to do that. As if it had been out of his control.

"You know, it's late," Lois said finally. "I think I'm gonna skip the java and head strait to bed."

Clark just nodded. "Goodnight, Lois."

He was surprised when she didn't move. Instead she scanned his face, looking as though something had just occurred to her.

"What?" he asked, self consciously.

"Nothing," she said with a shrug. "It's just funny seeing you without your glasses."

She patted his arm and whispered a goodnight before leaving him alone once again.

He stood in the middle of the room, with a million unanswered questions. One particular one, lingered in the foreground.

"Glasses?

A/N: Clark, you are so screwed


	4. Interlude

**

* * *

Interlude**

* * *

Title: Votive

Author: Marcy (DHCgirl)

Rating: PG

Content: Clois

Summary: Lois and Clark. Candles. Various stages of undress.

Spoilers: The Future Tense-verse

Disclaimer: No infringement is intended, no profit is made.

Distribution: Prologue, Kryptonsite, DTS, My Site; anyone else, just drop me a note.

Notes: **This is NOT a part of Future Tense. If you are archiving my fic, please don't put this as chapter 3. It's a separate entity altogether. **

That said - it's definitely "inspired by." So many people commented about liking to see the scene that Future!Lois alludes to about the exploding light and the barn on fire that I thought I'd write it. The next REAL part of Future Tense is on its way. I tried not to spend too much time on this one - I'm easily side-tracked.

Dedicated to Chumpy - She made me awesome Durance clips and I promised I'd show this to her early, and wasn't able to get it done. I'll give you FT spoilers if ya like.

Feedback: Like it? Leave it. Always appreciated.

_It was my turn to decide  
I knew this was our time  
No one else will have me like you do  
No one else will have me, only you _

You'll sit alone forever  
If you wait for the right time  
What are you hoping for?  
I'm here I'm now I'm ready  
Holding on tight  
Don't give away the end  
The one thing that stays mine

_- _Jimmy Eat World

He grabbed her hand and tugged her into the light.

Old, corroding clapboards creaked a symphony beneath their feet as they bounded up the stairs and towards the loft's large, bay window.

"Quick," he instructed, breathless. His grip tightened. "We'll miss it."

She did her best to keep up. He was faster than she thought.

He helped her with her balance as she navigated the window's ledge, easing her way down and swinging her feet over the side. He plopped down beside her and dangled his legs, knocking the thin stilettos of her black heels with the toe of his boot. She shot him a look, and he glanced away. A blush crept up his cheekbones and betrayed his look of innocence.

He motioned back out to the Kent farm, and the fields of corn swathed in the misty orange gloaming. The last bit of sunlight peaked above the horizon, like a copper penny lopped off at the top. Lois watched the last few moments of its reluctant decent as it sunk beneath the hills and out of sight.

"Happy? We made it."

Clark frowned. "For, like, two seconds."

Lois sighed. "I appreciate the romance factor. I do. But please tell me we didn't break off dinner early, run three red lights, marathon it through pens of livestock, and sprint to the finish just to have you pout."

"I should have planned better..."

"The thing about sunsets? They happen every day."

Clark looked down at his hands. "I just wanted tonight to be special," he said, his head dropping.

Lois leaned in and brushed his cheek with a soft kiss. "It was," she argued, softly.

He broke into a sudden smile that lit his whole face like the absent sun. It had been a jolt - a confidence booster. His fingers twitched in his lap before his hand slowly snaked around her waist and pulled her closer. She let out a breath of air - a long, contented sigh - and rested her head on his shoulder.

It was times like these that Lois thought it hard to believe she had once found this town to be entirely alien. It wasn't too long ago that she had put on her big city blinders and dismissed it as backwards and provincial. Sure, she still didn't fully get the rise-at-the-crack-of-dawn mentality, and crop rotation remained a mystery, but the big picture things were different. Somewhere between her hundredth condescending glance and her thousandth scoff, when she was entirely unprepared for it to happen, Smallville had snuck into her heart.

Now she took it all in. Sights, sounds, colors; the beautiful minutia of the Kent family farm.

She gave them her attention, her senses' deep consideration, and when they rushed in, assaulting her with sensations she had been without for so long it was scary and real and blissfully dizzying.

She had always hated to stand still. Attachments of any kind had felt like a pair of cement shoes on her feet as she struggled to keep her head above water. When you devote your time to ducking permanence, pulling up roots before they have a chance to set, you begin to depend on change.

Lois had spent her life running and because of it she felt her safest with the wind on her back and the darkness wrapped around her.

That was, at least, until she met Clark Kent.

The closer they had gotten, and the more time the two clocked on the farm, the more she felt those desires to cut ties slip away. If anything, she wanted to spend more time there. It's partly why she had insisted that they go back that the weekend for their date.

Everything about the place had become comforting, like an old friend. Like a safe house.

Like a home.

After a long silence, Lois spoke up. "Not to be a buzz kill, but we both have class tomorrow," she reminded him, immediately regretting that she had.

Behind his glasses, Clark was wide-eyed. "You're telling me that Lois Lane is actually concerned about her attendance record?"

Lois shrugged. "No. But you are."

She felt his chest rumble as he laughed. "Touche," he conceded with a smile.

She reluctantly pulled away, untangling herself from his arms, and pushed herself to her feet.

"Alright, back to the real world," she said, ruefully. She took the time to straiten out her blouse as she waited for him to follow.

Clark dug in his heels. "Do we have to?"

Lois grabbed his arm and pulled. "Come on, Smallville."

He groaned as he rose, resisting just enough to make her work for it. She braced herself and gave one final yank. Caught off guard, it kicked him off balance and he stumbled forward, colliding into her.

She lifted her head and met his eyes, watching as they flickered with desire. He reached out slowly and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

As they stood draped in silence, she was positive that he was going to kiss her.

Instead, he looked just beyond her.

SNAP.FIZZ. CRACK.

Lois whirled around to catch the violent eruption of the light above them. White sparks rained down like confetti, flickering and dying out.

"What the hell just happened?" She set her hands on her hips and waited for his response.

"The lightbulb. It went out."

She looked down. The moon cast just enough light to reveal the millions of tiny glass splinters on the ground. "It exploded," she corrected, stunned.

"It's one of those generic brands," he explained quickly. "Really undependable."

She eyed him for a beat. Two. Three.

"Well, great." She sighed. Talk about a mood killer. "I guess we're about to answer the age old question; how many Met-U coeds does it take to screw in a lightbulb?"

She began to walk towards the closet where she knew Martha kept the odds and ends of the house, when his hand caught her arm.

"No. I have an idea."

Clark motioned for her to stay put before jogging over to the opposite side of the loft. He bent down and reached beneath the couch. A second later he had pulled out a large, tan box.

Lois quirked an eyebrow. "Your idea is...shoes?"

"No," he corrected, opening the box and angling it her way. "Candles."

He smirked triumphantly as he passed her.

She followed in tow. "Wait. Here." Lois felt around her pockets for her lighter. She had quit smoking years ago, but kept it on her out of habit. "You can use my -- "

When he turned back to her, his hands were clutching two brightly lit candles.

"Or not."

He shrugged, anticipating her question. "I had some matches on me."

"Oh, really?"

He simply nodded, using the two candles to light the ones he had lined along the balustrade.

"Well-timed lightbulb pyrotechnics. Convenient matchbooks." Lois crossed her arms and cocked an eyebrow. "If I didn't know better, Smallville, I'd think you were trying to seduce me."

The flickering flames revealed his ghost of a smile. "You think I planned all this?"

"Yeah," she said, taking the two votives from his hands and setting them behind him. She rocked up on her toes, and positioned herself dangerously close to his ear before whispering, "And for the record, the effort was entirely unnecessary."

She grabbed his collar and brought his lips crashing down to hers. They stumbled back into the bannister, Clark's back making a loud thud as it hit the wood. She mumbled an apology against his mouth and pulled him towards her.

Her fingers flew to the buttons of his shirt, and she unfastened them with precision. She pushed the fabric back over his broad shoulders, and down his arms. He took it from there, shaking out of the sleeves and letting it fall. She grabbed her blouse and pulled it over her head, revealing the black satin bra beneath. Dangling the shirt beside her, she added it to the sloppy pile on the floor.

Clark slowed.

"You're beautiful." His voice was warm and wrapped her like a blanket.

She laughed off his compliment and drew him back in.

After all, they'd had years of foreplay.

They moved to the bed, a tangle of limbs. Clark lowered her to the mattress and gently settled his weight down on top of her. Lois reached behind him and grabbed the hem of his t-shirt, yanking it over his head. He maneuvered out of it quickly, and she tossed it behind them.

Her heart beat a hurried tattoo against her chest, while his pounded back.

An echo.

He trailed kisses down her jaw line, before finally settling into the crook of her neck. She moaned softly and ran a rough set of hands through his already tousled hair.

Lois had been alone for so long, but Clark had changed that. She pulled him closer, deeper, his kisses like redemption. Heat churned in her stomach - and new emotions burned through her, real and powerful.

She was on fire.

No.

Wait.

_Something_ was on fire.

"Clark? I think something's burning."

She craned the neck he was still nibbling on to see over his shoulder. Behind the bannister the tall stacks of hay were crackling with fire. Dammit, the candles...

"Oh my god!"

She placed a set of firm hands on his chest and shoved him backwards, sending him hurtling towards the end of the bed. He gaped at her, stunned. She pointed a violent finger behind him. "Look!" she instructed.

He looked back and tensed. "We need to get out of here."

Lois didn't need to be told twice, jumping to her feet and setting off on a sprint. She eased down the steps, her back pressed against the railing as the flames jumped the bales and nipped at her skin.

Her mind raced as she considered her small list of options. She dropped to a knee and began to sweep up small piles of dirt. She grabbed two fist-fulls and tossed them into the fire. It flared back, mocking her efforts.

She hurled another.

"What are you doing?" Clark yelled from the top of the stairs. She had to squint to see him. In the smoke he was a blur.

"I don't know!" she admitted, frantically. She tossed some more dirt onto the flames. "It was the only thing I could think of!"

"Lois, go to the house and get the fire extinguisher!"

She scoffed. "And you'll be doing what? Roasting marshmallows?"

"I'm gonna grab the big canvas tarp and try to smother it."

She hesitated. "Clark --"

"Go!"

She was halfway to the house when she stopped dead. She cast a worried look back to the barn, which flickered brightly under the black sky.

She turned to the Kent's house, willing her feet to move in that direction. He had asked her to go. She was supposed to go...

Lois shook her head. Well, screw that. She wasn't going to just flee like some damsel-in-distress while her boyfriend became a charcoal briquette.

She was tired of running.

Lois rushed back through the barn doors, and was immediately hit by the temperature shift. The once smoldering barn was now freezer-cold, like a meat locker.

She coughed as the smoke billowed and swirled around her. "Clark?" When it cleared, she found Clark right where she had left him. On the steps. Hands empty.

She looked back and forth, from Clark to the black-scorched bales of hay.

"Where's the tarp?"

He looked at her, dazed. After a moment he laughed nervously. "Lois, I - um -- "

"What on earth is going on in here?!?"

"Dad!" Clark yelped, his voice jumping an octave.

Lois turned to find his very angry father framed in the doorway. Her hands slid slowly up to her shoulders, crisscrossing her chest. Flashes of black satin still peaked through.

"Hey, Mr. Kent."

She watched as he assessed the damage with a deep frown etched into his features. He pulled a chunk out of one of the still-smoking hay bales. "You're lucky you two weren't hurt."

And he was right. The flames had made a quick job of half the lower barn, and could have easily taken them both too. Yet still she had come back - loyalty to Clark Kent like an invisible tether.

It was then that something occurred to Lois.

She had been willing to risk it all for him.

And she'd do it again.


	5. Transcend

1Part 3: Transcend

_Take me down the road _

_To a place I've never been before_

_Open up my eyes _

_Show me colors that I've never seen_

_Open up your mouth _

_Give me perfect words I've never heard_

_I'm ready now let's go_

_Burn my world a southpaw curve_

_Fast and hard. Like Vida Blue._

- All

In the middle of a restless sleep the impulse had hit him.

It buzzed in his mind with the nagging drone of unfinished business. He tried to roll it off, yanking the crochet blankets tightly around his neck and willing his eyes shut. He tossed and turned on the too small living room couch and attempted to think of something, anything else.

Turning to the digital clock on the counter, Clark saw a blurry 2:34 through red-rimmed eyes. He crushed his pillow into his face and sighed.

Chloe had once told him that a mind could be stubbornly independent. She illustrated the point by warning him not to think of elephants - any other animal, vegetable, mineral was fair game. But not elephants. Needless to say, he was stuck with pachyderm-filled thoughts for the rest of the day. She had assured him that everyone fell pray to it - that it was simply a quirky characteristic of the human brain. But while that explanation was well and good for the earthborn population, it didn't really apply.

After all - not human.

He had to wonder if being what he was made him even more susceptible to the phenomena. Always at the complete mercy of a self-destructive train of thought. Super masochism.

All Clark Kent knew for sure was that his traitoress brain currently had him highjacked, along for a dangerous ride that left him with throbbing temples and a guilt that settled thickly in the pit of his stomach.

Despite his better judgement, he soon found his bare feet shuffling up the creaky clapboard steps of the loft and over to couch that still held Lois's suede shoulder bag.

Sleep-deprived and wary, Clark sighed and flopped down next to it. He sat motionless for a while, sneaking furtive glances out of the corner of his eye, while he debated his next move.

He had spent his quick run to the barn rationalizing what he was about to do. Lois's appearance had brought up a lot of questions, but through all of his shock and confusion she had remained frustratingly tight lipped. It had been a surprise, actually. Up until that point he hadn't believed that Lois Lane knew the meaning of restraint, let alone could practice it with such a high degree of discipline. She was as subtle as a falling anvil when it came to knocking him down a few pegs, but when he really needed her to be strait with him, she was anything but direct. It just figured.

But her bag...well, it could give him exactly what he needed. No games. Just answers. He was positive.

The decision was made.

He reached for the latch.

And then it was unmade again.

Clark groaned and sank back into the musty cushions. Lois had risked her life to come back and try to save him, the least he could do was respect her privacy. He had no reason to believe that she would mislead him, or keep anything from him that he was supposed to know. She'd do what was in his best interest. He was pretty sure that stipulation was somewhere in those wedding vows.

But...

His mind swung back again. She had been so protective of that bag and yet had made no effort to share what was inside. He could just take one quick look, so they were at least on the same page. He would be better equipped to help her - and to save himself.

She never had to find out. And if she did, she'd forgive him. She'd have to.

He sucked in a deep breath and before he could talk himself out of it once again, dumped the bag out onto the floor, the contents making a sharp clatter as they hit oak. Clark sifted through the items; a red compact, a bottle of water, a small ring box, Lois' press pass, a flashlight. Clark stopped when he got to a small, leather-bound photo album.

He ran his fingers along the gold-leafed vines that twisted into a decorative border. The binding was beginning to fray. Years of reminiscing, he figured. "Memories" stretched across the front cover, and scrawled at the bottom, in a handwriting he recognized as his own, the Kents.

He flipped to the first page and was met with an image he was far more comfortable encountering. There in the picture was Lois standing on the lawn of Metropolis University. She couldn't have been much older than she was now, her black backpack slung over a shoulder and her hair pulled up in that familiar sloppy ponytail. Her hand was up, her eyes pointedly rolled, making her objection to the picture expressedly known to the lens. Despite her protest, her mouth was still turned up into a reluctant smile, which made her appear more embarrassed than annoyed. He wondered ... who had taken the picture? Why were they taking it? And maybe most importantly, had she always been that beautiful?

He turned the page and smiled. Chloe and Lois both beamed brightly up at him, arms wrapped around each other's shoulders. It was nice to know that in even the most chaotic of times, some thing really never changed.

He turned the next page to find him face to face with himself. Well, the future him. He sat at a desk in the middle of a stucco-walled dorm room, Met U pennants hanging above the bed. His hair was shorter, neater. The thin, metal-rimmed glasses Lois had mentioned earlier rested on the bridge of his nose. He wore an easy smile as he rested the chair on its two back legs.

The next picture stopped him short. It was of him and Lois - his first real experience seeing them together. He held her tightly in his arms as they both sat on a bench outside of the library. He nuzzled playfully into her neck, as she tried to wriggle free, wide smiles splitting their faces. He looked like a person completely, and totally in love. But the bigger surprise, the one that sent his mind spinning, was that she did too.

"You know, you could have just x-rayed the bag. It would have been a far less conspicuous alternative."

Clark jumped at the sound of her voice, bobbling the album in his hands. He shut it quickly, and hid it behind him as he spun around to face her.

"Lois, I ...umm..."

Lois bit back an amused smile as she watched him squirm beneath her withering stare. Finally she let him off the hook, dropping her hands from her hips and starting towards him.

"Easy, Clark. It's okay. I'm sure you had a long, drawn-out internal struggle about the morality of snooping in my purse." In the stillness of the night, the clack clack of her heels echoed through the barn.

"Sorry."

Her eyes zeroed in on the arm that was tucked behind his back. When she reached around to grab the album, he didn't bother to stop her.

Busted.

"They told me not to bring these," she said, idly flipping through the pages. "That if you found them they would just bring up more questions. But I needed something to ground me, you know?"

He crammed his hands in his pockets and nodded.

"You shouldn't be looking at these. I'm under strict orders to keep you as in the dark as possible about the yet to be," Lois said, smirking at whatever picture she had stumbled on. She looked up at him and shrugged. "But since when have I ever towed the company line, right?" She held it out for him to take, her nod assuring him that she was being sincere.

He flipped back to the page where he had left off, dog-eared in his mind. She stood behind him on tip toes, craning her neck for a better look.

"Junior year in college. We had just come back from spring break. Daytona. Very nice. That's why I'm clearly tanned, and you're clearly...not." Lois filled in the narrative blanks.

Clark looked over and nodded, appreciatively. "Thanks."

She shrugged. "I figure these pictures probably work better with an audio commentary."

"So...we dated?" Stupid question. He knew it. But still...

Lois laughed. "Well, typically before two people walk down the aisle they tend to take in a movie or two. And while I don't really consider myself a slave to tradition, I went with the collective consensus on this one."

"So. That's a yes?"

She leveled a look at him. "Work with me here, Clark." She sighed, deeply, and shook her head, before flipping the next page for him. "This would have been so much easier if I didn't have to do the Time Warp back to when you were still mooning over Lana Lang."

"I'm not ..." He trailed off at the sight of her already unconvinced look. He regrouped and tried again. "I wouldn't call it _mooning_, exactly."

"You know, you always criticize me for my selective memory. I'm going to have to remember this moment of grand self-delusion for future counter-arguments."

He looked at her and smiled, a reaction that was rapidly becoming the norm. She slipped on her echoing smile with ease, but he figured that she'd had a lot of practice. But as quickly as it had come, it disappeared, her jaw tensing.

He followed her gaze down to where it was set on the Scroll of Templar, which, thanks to his purse-purge, was now on the floor under a messy pile.

Lois strode over to the paper and snatched it up, frantically inspecting it for any damage. She turned it over in her hands, scrutinizing every square inch of faded parchment. Finally, she once again acknowledged his presence in the room.

"This?" she said, her icy tone chilling the air around them. "Never leaves the bag again."

He nodded quickly. "Yeah. I'm sorry."

She took a deep, steadying breath, and forced a tight smile. She shook her head. "It's okay. Just, please. Be careful."

She folded the paper with deliberate care, and slid it into the bag. While was there, she picked up the other items that belonged inside and returned them as well. When she was done, she set it on the desk. She gave it a weary once-over, as if her bag were a flight risk.

"Do you miss him?" Clark directed the question to the back of her head.

He watched as her hand unconsciously shifted to her bracelet. "Being away from my husband is like a root canal with a rusty screwdriver."

Clark blinked. "That was...vivid."

Lois turned and smiled. "It's the journalist in me." She yawned deeply, and stretched her arms high over her head. "Having you here makes it easier though. It's like home movies in high definition 3-D. IMAX theaters got nothing on you." She finished with a wink.

"Do you want to –?" He held up the album.

"You don't have to ask me twice."

The two settled down onto the couch. Lois tucked her legs beneath her and wedged herself into his side. She smelled like vanilla, and he breathed her in deeply. Clark wondered if this was something they did often - late nights of talking, comforting. Just enjoying each others' company. He felt like it was something the future him would look forward to. Or, at least, should.

When he looked up she was staring at him expectantly. "You are aware that not everyone has x-ray vision, right?"

"Oh!" A blush crept up his neck as he opened the album. "Sorry."

The next photo was their wedding picture. Lois looked stunning in her gown, a sea of cascading white satin. And not to brag, but the tuxedo defiantly suited him. Wrapped up in each other they looked happy. Just...happy.

A thought occurred to him. "Chloe?"

"My maid of honor, of course," Lois answered simply.

He didn't push further. He didn't need to. He had to admit, it was a giant relief to know that however things had evolved with Lois, they hadn't been at the expense of his best friend.

He flipped the page and --

Clark's train of thought - that Johnny Reb that had a tendency of getting away from him - hit a brick wall.

He stared lamely at the image. It was of him – he thought. He was standing, arms crossed and powerful. Top to bottom in dark blue spandex, a red cape resting on his shoulders and a golden emblem blazoned on his chest.

"That's..." He could only point.

"You," Lois nodded. "Well, technically it's Superman."

Clark barked a laugh. "Superman? A little pretentious, don't you think? Who came up with that?"

He looked over to find her all scowl. "I did," she said, flatly.

"It's catchy." He quickly changed the subject. "Did you make the suit?"

"Nope. That's a Martha Kent original."

He flipped through the next couple of pages. Newspaper clippings from the Daily Planet. "Superman Stops Tsunami." "Superman Rescues Orphans from Burning Building." A myriad of larger than life headlines, all about him.

It was...overwhelming.

"I don't understand," he admitted.

Lois nudged his shoulder with her own. "Well, in a few years time you become a bonafide super hero," she informed him, a proud smile playing on her lips.

"So, what? I just run around from place to place in this get up and save the day?"

"No. You just fly around from place to place in that get up and save the day."

His brows knit in confusion. "I thought you said I was a reporter."

She shrugged. "Everyone needs a day job, Clark."

He couldn't imagine himself so completely exposed. Sure, the fact that Lois knew about him had been a relief, but the whole world?

He stared blankly at the picture of a man who looked isolated. Alone.

Alien.

Wait. His mind ratcheted back to something Lois had mentioned before, about Jason Trask. How something had happened that caused him change. Something had made him to abandon everything he ever knew for a mission. A personal crusade.

Awareness hit like a haymaker. "Trask's not really here because of some slander piece, is he?"

Lois bit her lower lip, conflict registering on her face. "No," she admitted, finally.

Clark felt anger bubble to the surface. "So you lied to me?" He pushed himself off the couch.

"I wouldn't call it a lie –" Lois followed.

He whirled back and moved forward, towering over her. "I would."

Her eyes narrowed and she stepped into his advance. "Don't go all paragon of honesty with me or do I need to remind you that a few minutes ago you were playing Nancy Drew in my personal belongings?"

"That's different. I wasn't trying to purposely mislead you!" he hurled at her, lip curled in a defiant sneer. "How can I trust anything you say now? For all I know everything you've told me is a giant lie! Maybe you aren't even Lois Lane."

Lois rolled her eyes. "Typical Clark Kent. Able to leap to conclusions in a single bound."

"Then why didn't you tell me the real reason you were here?"

"That information was on a need to know basis. And you? Not amongst the needy."

"Why is Trask here?"

"Clark..." For the first time her eyes darted from his own. He was pushing her somewhere she didn't want to go. But part of him, a large part, didn't care.

"Tell me."

If he had been more familiar with their future relationship, he would have known that he was the only person on the planet with the power to make Lois Lane cave. And apparently even at seventeen, years before he would become the man she would marry, he still held that honor.

"Trask used to head a secret government department called Bureau 39 - a special subdivision of the US army dealing with extra terrestrial life," she explained. "During his tenure he became convinced of the prospect of alien colonization and what he considered to be the imminent threat it posed for the human race. He was obsessed with the idea - A little xenophobia can go a long way on the crazy scale."

She was dodging the issue. He stepped forward. "Why is he here?"

Her eyes begged him not to make her continue. But he stood firm.

Lois shook her head. "You know that little project I alluded to earlier? The one that got Trask on everyone's bad list? Well, it was a search and destroy." She took a deep breath. "And the target was Superman."

Clark reeled back as if he had been slapped.

"So he's here because I'm a threat..." he murmured, walking dumbly towards the window.

Lois tagged quickly behind, hot on his heels and quick to his defense. "No, because he's a whackjob. Haven't we been over this already?"

"Hey." She grabbed his arm and turned him towards her. He felt her grip tighten. "It doesn't matter."

Anger flashed in his eyes. "How can you say that? It does matter! None of this would be happening if I wasn't like this!"

"And what's that?"

"You know what I am, Lois," he said through gritted teeth.

She crossed her arms and arched a daring brow. "Enlighten me."

He shot her a look he didn't realize had the power to wreck her. "Different," he spat the word like venom.

Lois stood in stunned silence. He watched as she paled, her stoic resolve shattering like glass. In the moonlight, her eyes took on the wet glint of pain.

He tore himself away, his legs feeling like lead as he dragged them towards the window. Clark sat down and looked out at a world that would never have him. It was a thought that had been hanging heavily around his neck for weeks, ever since he had returned from the Phantom zone. But now it felt real. Any hope for a normal future had been crushed in one lousy second.

Kal-el of Krypton or Clark Kent of Smallville. Neither costume seemed to fit anymore. Not really. He looked down at the album in his hands. And that blue, red and gold one didn't look like it was much better.

He was beginning to feel like he didn't belong anywhere.

He had almost begun to think that Lois had left when she slowly walked up and sat down beside him. The two looked out at nothing in particular for what felt like an eternity. Finally, she spoke.

"Clark, you're more of a human being than most people born and bred on this planet. I mean, God. You've got more humanity in you little finger than Trask has in his whole psychotic body." He turned to find her eyes filled with a love he felt like he didn't deserve.

"But I'm not human, Lois," he argued, his voice cracking. "It's like the more I try to convince myself that I'm meant to be here, the more it seems like everything else is telling me I'm not. I'm an outsider." He gestured to the steel jawed man - the icon in the dark blue suit. "And I always will be." He hated that the way it sounded like weakness, and that she was there to hear it.

He waited for her answer. And when it came, it began with a loud scoff.

"This was a choice, Clark, not some sort of default obligation. You don't save people because you're a super man. You save them because you're a _good_ man." She rested a hand on his chest. "You have the biggest and best heart of anyone I've ever met. And that does make you different. Great- sign me up for different."

He allowed her take the album, although he was reluctant. But he let it go.

He let it all go.

Clark pressed his palms into his eyes and cried. Everything that had been building up inside of him - all the worry and, loneliness, and doubt - spilled out in a wreck of sobs.

He hadn't realized just how much had needed that. He marveled at Lois' ability to be confusing and comforting at the same time. When nothing else in the world made sense, she some how managed to.

He swallowed hard, and forced his next words out. "I'm sorry. It's just a lot to handle sometimes."

He felt her fingers link with his.

"I know. But you'll get through it."

"How can you be so sure?" He genuinely wanted to know.

"Because it's what you do." That night she seemed to have all the answers. "And you're not alone."

She gave his hand a squeeze.

When she had his full attention, she flashed him a million watt smile. He couldn't help but grin back.

Whether he liked it or not, she was going to pull him into the light. Kicking and screaming if need be. As Clark blinked away tears, feeling lighter than he ever had before, he realized that she might have just succeeded.

"How do you do that?"

She scrunched her nose in confusion. "Do what?"

"Make it feel like everything isn't falling apart?"

She leaned back on her hands and looked up and the ceiling. "Practice. When your husband's a walking guilt-complex you learn quickly," she teased, lightly.

Clark shook his head, dazed. "You're really different."

She eyed him. "I'm going to choose to take that as a compliment."

"You should."

Her eyes went skyward again as she allowed something to float up from the recesses of her mind. "I like to think we evened each other out. Before you met me you were kind of uptight," She motioned to him as if he stood as a shining example of her point. She thought for a moment and then added, "Sullen, moody, whiney, pretty much a killjoy."

"Okay, Lois. I get it." It was moments like that, moments where he'd see a little bit of the Lois he knew sneak into the woman next to him, that he could allow himself to believe that he really was looking into the future.

His future.

Lois continued, "And I may have been a little... rough around the edges."

Now it was his turn to roll his eyes.

She caught it. "I didn't push people away because I wanted to, Clark. It was about survival. For a long time anyone who ever mattered left me - my mom, my sister, and then Chloe... I never had anyone I could count on to be there the next day. When your life turns into one big continual goodbye, you learn pretty quickly that shutting out the world is a hell of a lot better than a perpetually broken heart. It was easy and safe and really lonely..." she admitted with a laugh. "And then I met you. Clark Kent. Smalltown wonderboy, King of the flannel. And everything changed."

She became serious. More serious than he had ever seen her - in any incarnation. "You see, Clark, way before you ever dawned the big red 'S' and cape and went around rescuing the world at large...you saved me."

"I did?"

"Yeah." Her voice dipped to a warm whisper. "So forgive me if I like you just the way you are. I'm just a really big fan."

He could only stare at her - a walking, talking affirmation of a future worth looking forward to. Hope.

When he allowed himself turn back to the window, the world outside looked entirely right. The night seemed clearer. His life seemed clearer . It was in that moment that he finally realized where he belonged.

He belonged with her.

He looked over to where Lois sat lost in thought, a million miles away. Or maybe just ten years.

"Lois?" His voice trembled a bit. He felt like he was driving without headlights.

"Yeah?"

"I was wondering..."

He suddenly noticed that his pulse was beginning to quicken around her. Everything seemed to quicken around her. He thought back to the pictures in the album. The stories she had told. A future that he wasn't so sure he could wait for.

She seemed suddenly intrigued by his silence, cocking her head in amusement. "What?"

He shot a quick look at the gold band on her finger. If she loved him then... "Clark, what?" Then she might love him now.

Lois' kind words swimming in his head, Clark slowly dropped his head down to hers.

Her hand to his jaw stopped him short. She ran her thumb along his cheek and chuckled softly.

"Hey, try that again in about 10 years, okay?" she said with a gentle smile.

He nodded, embarrassed, and pulled back, stuttering out an apology . He watched as she looked back out at the night sky, the incident seemingly dropped as fast as it had come. His heart sunk.

After a moment, she spoke again. "In the meantime," she began, breezily. "I may be biased, and this may come across as shameless self promotion, but there is a girl over at Met U. Smart. Witty. Devastatingly beautiful--"

"She's not you," Clark interrupted, his bluntness surprising even him.

"Yes. She is. She's me without a Clark Kent."

Clark shook his head, finally. "Doesn't matter. Lois doesn't...those feelings aren't there."

"Don't sell yourself short," Lois said, easing herself to her feet. Once up, she bent down towards him and winked. "I have it on good authority that she thinks you're pretty cute."

She ruffled his hair set out towards the steps. Clark pulled his legs up to his chest and rested his chin on his knees.

If he wasn't who he was he wouldn't have heard her next words as she softly mumbled them under her breath, her voice decorated with amusement. "Lois Lane. Irresistible to Clark Kents throughout space and time."

For the second time that night she had left him with more questions than answers. He wondered how anything could be the same now that he knew so much about what was to come. He reminded himself that Jason Trask would be there in two days, and that if he were to have any hope of seeing that future, he had to stay on guard.

He looked around the loft and sighed. What was he going to do?

And then it hit him.

Clark jumped to his feet and jogged over to the desk. He grabbed his cell phone from where he had left it and punched in the number he wasn't sure why he had memorized.

After a minute, her sleep-muffled voice answered.

If he couldn't control the future...

"Hey, Lois?" He was going to seize the present. "It's Clark."


	6. Tangle

1Well, it seems like every time I promise that the next chapter will take less time, it takes more. Odd.

Anyway - thanks to everyone who's stuck with the fic - offered me feedback and encouragement. And thanks to all the awesome Clois authors who remind me just how fun it is to read/write the couple.

There's 4 parts left after this – finally the ball o' action is rolling.

For those who like reading fic to a soundtrack, here's what I was writing to:

Half Life - Duncan Sheik

Only God can Explain (v-man's Chlark mix) - Splender

Falls on Me - Fuel

Collide - Howie Day

Part 4: Tangle

"Rigged games are the easiest to beat." - Shadow, _American Gods._

All the kryptonite in the world could not remove the smile from Clark Kent's lips.

He let out a deep, content breath, and tucked his hands behind his head as he sunk deeper into the livingroom sofa. He was still in his clothes from the day before, which were now creased and sleep-rumpled. Not that he noticed, or cared for that matter.

There was only one thing on Clark's mind. One bright light at the end of his tunnel vision.

Lois.

The future Lois had been right. She and her younger counterpart really weren't all that different when it came down to it. His impromptu phone call had confirmed that fact.

When he had dialed her number late that night, Clark had braced himself for the worst. He fully expected her to chew him out and tell him off, all while rubbing her caustic salt into wounds she wouldn't realize thar she had lain bare.

But after her initial confusion - "Ack, Smallville, it's 3am. Wait. Lemme guess. That's like, 10 o'clock farm time?" - and then panic - "Oh god! Is Chloe dead again?" - she had actually heard him out. It was clumsy and awkward and in no way a sufficient explanation - "I just...needed to talk to you." - but she never called him on it. Instead he heard her yawn, a real jaw-cracker, and then she asked him for five minutes.

He waited patiently on a silent line as she made a mug of something she called "The Hummingbird" - a mixture of instant coffee, powdered espresso, Red Bull, and chocolate syrup - a concoction she used for late night cram sessions or to sober up from particularly brutal hang overs - "Liquid productivity. The stuff should come with an octane rating, but it's a hell of a lot better than a speed addiction at 18" - She settled in, took a giant swig, and let him spill.

They had talked forever, and he pumped her for all the information she was willing to share. He learned that she had a bratty little sister in boarding school somewhere in Eastern Europe. Her favorite color was yellow. She had a soft spot for dogs, hated cats, and was deathly allergic to both. She did the Daily Planet crossword puzzle in erasable ink as a cheat. And despite her tough as nails exterior, she still wore the pink bunny slippers Chloe had given her for Christmas. The last one had been a slip, and she threatened a slow and painful death if he told a soul.

He chuckled at the memory that was still fresh in his mind.

After what felt like minutes, but was actually hours, it ended. She had been the one to catch the faint rays of the morning sun first. "It's six o'clock already?"

He found himself thanking her, ostensibly for the talk, but in reality for what she would ultimately do for him. His final surprise of the night came when she didn't question it. "Anytime, Smallville," she'd said with one final yawn and then asked him to wish her luck on the intro to journalism class she'd be attending on 2 hours sleep.

"Goodnight, Lois."

A faint chuckle on the other end. "Good morning, Clark." And then a dial tone.

He was beginning to find redemptive qualities in every kind of Lois Lane.

Clark jumped at the sharp peel of his cell phone as it caught him off guard. He grabbed it and flipped it open, a surge of exhilaration shooting through him at the prospect of it being her. The hurried beat of his heart rang in his ears. The Hummingbird had nothing on this.

"Lois?" he answered, poorly masking his excitement.

There was silence for a moment and then, "No. Lana."

Clark sat himself up and rubbed his eyes. He tilted the clock on the shelf towards him and made out a blurry 9 am.

"Oh hey, I thought you were -"

"Lois. I got that. Is everything okay? Did Lois leave?"

"No, she's upstairs in my room." He looked towards the staircase. Maybe he should make her breakfast. He wondered if she liked eggs.

Lana made her confusion known with a long 'ummmm' . "Then why did you assume she'd be calling you?" she asked.

"Oh," Clark laughed. "Not that Lois. Our Lois. I was talking to her last night -"

"You called her?" Lana interrupted, he voice just an octave above stunned. "Are you crazy?"

He shook his head and laughed. "I'm beginning to think so..."

"Clark, you heard what Lois said. If they ever met up -"

"It's fine," he assured her quickly, before her words could sink in. "I'm pretty sure it flew under the radar of suspicion."

"As much as a late night phone call can," Lana countered, flippantly.

He frowned, knowing she was right. It had been a lot to risk for something that could have waited until this was all over. It's just that it somewhere, deep down, Clark knew it couldn't have.

"I just wanted to talk to her," he admitted, lamely.

Lana's deep sigh sounded like static in the receiver. "Clark, I know this is confusing for you. But you have to be careful."

"I know. And I appreciate your concern, I do. But I have it under control." Out of the corner of his eye he saw the bright red pulse of the caller ID box. He walked over to the phone to find that Chloe had called that night while he was in the loft. He would have to remember to call her back..

"Well, I just called to see if there were any updates." Lana broke into his train of thought.

Clark grabbed his boots from the hallway and brought them over to the kitchen table. "I was going to let Lois sleep for a while longer and then see what she wanted to do, " he explained, pulling his first boot on and lacing it tightly. "I'm sure she has some kind of half-baked scheme in the works. She is Lois Lane after all."

Lana's laugh seemed forced, and Clark could tell she was still hung up on the phone call. "Well, I'm here if you guys need me. For anything."

"Thanks. It means a lot."

Clark's head snapped up at the low rumble of tires on gravel.

"Lana, can you hold on for a second?"

"Clark, what's wrong?"

He walked to the kitchen window and pulled the curtain back. His stomach dropped. "It's my parents. They're home early. I've got to go." He clicked off the phone before she could respond and dropped it on the counter.

Clark was at his room in a literal flash. He knocked lightly on the frame before cracking the door and peeking inside.

"Lois?" he whispered. Hearing the distinct squeak of his mother's laughter as she reached the front porch, he sucked in a breath and plowed in. "Lois, we've got to get out of here. My parents are –"

He stopped at the sight of the empty bed.

Clark looked around in confusion.

She was gone.

Lois hummed tunelessly at the red light.

Smallville was not known for an excess of traffic signals - which was probably a good thing considering the one they did have seemed to have an affinity for "Stop". It was actually kind of fitting - stuck at a dead stop when everything depended on her forward motion. The writer in her thought it an appropriate metaphor for her trip back. The inner cynic groaned.

The green light finally came and she leaned on the pedal, ever mindful of her driving record in the town.

Lois hated lying to Clark. She'd done more of it in the past 24 hours than she had in her entire life. If she needed any sort of assurance as to why that was, the guilt that stuck thick to her ribs was doing the trick.

She had told Clark they had a two day buffer before Trask would arrive, but the actual ETA was two minutes and counting. The truth was that she wanted Clark nowhere near Jason Trask. He was a sick, and dangerous man who would do anything to kill Clark.

That is, if he knew he was Superman.

To let Clark within fifteen feet of him, especially without the quasi-security of his glasses, would be to type up the opening line to his obituary. She couldn't have that on her head too.

Lois knew going into this that she would have to do it alone. There was a plan. With Clark's life on the line, deception was a necessary evil.

The upshot to being from the future was that you had a pretty good handle on the past. All of the insignificant questions of day to day occurrences - Will it really rain? Will I see so and so- all had immediate answers. It was the closest thing to second sight that Lois was ever going to get and she was going to take full advantage of it.

She had known that Clark had received an old flatbed truck for his birthday. She knew that the gear shift stuck when in neutral. She knew that the radio only picked up four stations when set to AM, and that when making out, the parking break was hell on the lower back.

She also knew that Clark kept his spare keys on the wooden dowel above the kitchen stove.

Lois flipped the right blinker on as she approached the turn for Shushter's Gorge.

All she could do was hope that when she finally told Clark the truth, he'd let all the lying, and the grand theft auto, slide.

Clark jogged down the stairs into the living room, and stood mystified in its center. Where could she have gone?

Martha poked her head out of the kitchen. "Clark, honey. We're home."

He smiled, distractedly. "Hey, mom."

She set down the brown paper bag she had been lugging and walked over. "Is everything okay?"

He shrugged. "Yeah. Fine."

She eyed him skeptically, and tried a different tack. "How did everything with Lois go?"

That caught his attention. "Huh?" Realizing he may have given too much away, he immediately reverted back to cool and detached. "Oh, okay."

"Did she need some supplies for her project?"

"What?"

"We passed her on the way home."

"Passed her?" Clark echoed, surprised.

Martha nodded. "Yeah. In your truck."

"Where was she?" Clark snatched his coat off the hook and stuffed his arms into the sleeves.

Martha thought for a moment. She reached out and adjusted his collar, which had flipped up on one side. "She looked like she was heading toward the gorge."

She found Jason Trask doubled over, dry heaving by the edge of the gorge.

Lois killed the engine and grabbed the stun gun that rested in the passengers seat. She slid it into her jacket's inlaid pocket, and then fastened the blazer's bottom three buttons.

She slipped out of the front seat and slammed the door, successfully grabbing his attention for the first time since she arrived.

"Just catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror? It really is enough to turn the strongest stomach," she snarked.

Trask straitened himself and spit, wiping his mouth with a rough sweep of his arm. In his black flight suit and combat boots he was more intimidating than she remembered. It cause her to falter, just slightly.

"Lois Lane. A little far from home aren't we?" he asked. Something in his voice suggested, however, that he was not so surprised to see her.

Lois drew her eyes into thin slits, her game face on. The one she used to break informants. Intimidate heads of state. "I could ask you the same thing, but I'm anxious to get to the part where I'm punching you in the face." She continued forward.

"No need to be crass, Ms. Lane. In fact, you should be thanking me."

Lois blinked in surprise. She huffed loudly, and crossed her arms expectantly.

"Oh, I've got to hear this one."

"I know you've forged a friendship with Superman, allowed him to pull the wool over your eyes about his real purpose on Earth. He's got the world fooled. But once I destroy him here, in the past, they'll be safe. I'm doing everyone a service."

"Oh yeah, you're a regular champion of the people," Lois scoffed. "There is not a single person who would benefit from your plan, except you."

Trask's lips curved into a slimy smile. "Oh, I'm sure your husband would disagree." It grew larger as the color drained from the reporter's cheeks.

Lois chose her next words carefully. "What does Clark have to do with any of this?"

Trask brushed the dust from his pants, sending small smoke signals into the air. It looked as though his reentry had been as rough, and dirty, as hers had been. "It's no secret that you and Superman are close. Just how close, well I'll leave that to the gossip-rags and tabloids. But I can't help but think that the marriage bed is a little crowded with you, your husband, and the Man of Steel..."

"You bastard!"

Lois swung at him, her knuckles cracking on impact. Trask reeled backwards, taken off guard. He shook his head in a daze and spat again, this time blood.

"Why do you insist on saving him?" he snarled, cradling his throbbing jaw.

Lois shook out her hand, which now, admittedly, stung like a bitch. "Let's just say I owe him one or two."

"So you'll allow him to corrupt all of humanity?"

She edged closer until she was hovering just above him. "You don't get it. Superman doesn't represent corruption. He's moral goodness incarnate. He fights for what's right. He believes people can change and he offers them that chance for redemption."

Trask's smile turned wry as he thumbed away the line of blood that leaked from the corner of his mouth. "Is that what you plan on doing? Lecture me into submission? Show me the error of my ways?"

Lois smirked, dangerously. "I'm no Superman." She pulled the taser from her jacket and jammed it into his abdomen, sending a flood of electricity coursing into his body. She held on as it jerked wildly in her hand. "I just came here to kick your ass."

Trask dropped to his knees with a low howl, and then collapsed in a heap at her feet. Lois closed her eyes and blew out a deep breath of relief, ruffling her bangs. She tossed the taser to the ground and enjoyed the small reprieve.

Crisis averted. It would be nice to go home.

"Lois!"

Her eyes snapped open and she turned towards the familiar voice.

"Clark?"

He stood in the near distance, close enough that she could see the concern etched on his face. He looked unsure of what to do, but still ready to do it.

With her attention stolen for a split second, Trask took advantage, grabbing a nearby rock and slamming it into her scull. Clark watched on in horror as she fell into his waiting arms. Before he knew it, Trask had pulled out a gun and rested it on her temple.

"Well, well, well. Clark Kent," he mocked, giving him an amused once over. "Are we having fun yet?"

"Let her go!" Clark screamed. Trask just smirked.

"That's not how it works, I'm afraid." He traced Lois' jaw with the barrel. "She's a pretty one. But somebody needs to teach her some manners."

Rage heated Clark's blood to a boil.

"Speaking of which," Trask began, breezily. "I never did get to thank you properly for that article you wrote. I guess now's my chance."

For two agonizing seconds the world around Clark slowed as he watched Trask push Lois off the edge of the gorge. When time snapped back he found himself already in mid-sprint.

He was at the bottom of the gully before Lois had cleared the ledge. He positioned himself below her and watched her decent into his arms, doing his best to cushion the impact. His knees bent like shock absorbers, but still her neck jerked and rolled.

He looked her over frantically as he cradled her in his arms.

Above him Trask watched the scene unfold with wide-eyes.

"Lois?" Clark nudged her lightly. "Wake up, okay?"

He pulled his hand out from under her to find it wet with blood. "Please?"

With Clark's panicked eyes on Lois, Trask slipped out of sight.

When Lois' eyes finally fluttered open, she saw the sun.

She eased herself up, shifting her weight to her elbows, becoming acutely aware of the dull ache just behind her eyes as she did.

"Clark?" It came out in a near whisper, her mouth dry, but she knew she could count on him to hear it. And he did.

He wore a look of utter relief as he walked over and crouched beside her. It took all of her remaining strength to muster a brave smile back.

He rested a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, you're up. How's your head?"

She brought her hand up to investigate the back of her head and discovered she was the proud new owner of a lump the size of the Daily Planet globe. "This is my second concussion in 24 hours. I'm gonna go with 'not so great' . You do realize you're only allotted, like, six of these in your lifetime before brain damage ensues."

Clark smiled. "Well then, you better start keeping a tally."

"Har har," Lois droned. "What happened?" She had a vague picture of the past twenty four hours, but the bleeding in a gully part? That was new.

"Trask knocked you out," Clark explained. He watched as she scanned her surroundings with confusion and then added, "And pushed you off the ledge."

Her nose scrunched. "Then how am I not a whole lot flatter?"

She sat up quickly and the world spun. When things slowed down Clark was there, in the foreground, looking at her skeptically.

It took a moment, and then it hit her.

Like a rock.

"Oh God, Clark. Please tell me you didn't."

He shook his head as he sat down beside her. "Did you want me to just let you test out your bounce potential?"

She paled. "You used your powers in front of him, didn't you?"

Clark shrugged. "What's the big deal? He knows what I am. He's here to kill me because of it."

She buried her face in her hands and took a moment to reflect on the complete and utter mess she had gotten them into. "No, he came here to kill Superman."

Clark's smile was fading, "I am Superman," he needlessly reminded her.

"But he doesn't know that! Or at least, he didn't." Lois dropped her head. For the first time she caught sight of her leg, and the large gash that ran knee cap to calf. She must have clipped it on the way down. Its presence formally acknowledged, it began to hurt like hell.

Clark's mouth opened in shock. Finally he managed, "What?"

Lois pushed herself up shakily and began to hobble towards the granite stairs that led back up to the top of the ledge.

"We have to get out of here," she said, more to herself than him. She tugged on her blood spattered skirt, which now torn, threatened to hitch its way up her thigh.

Clark caught her arm. "Lois you have to sit down –"

She shrugged off his grip. "I'm fine," she protested, teetering as she did.

"You're not fine. You need to see a doctor or –"

"Clark," she warned, the look in her eyes shifting from annoyance to fear. "There's no time. He knows who you are now. We need to get you the hell out of dodge - and as far away from Trask as possible."

A thought struck him. "My parents. They're home."

"Then we'll have to go there first."

Clark followed her up the stairs, a few feet behind in case her leg gave out, which he suspected it would. He tried to make sense of what she had told him but things weren't adding up. One piece in particular.

"I don't understand, if he didn't know I was Superman, why did he come to Smallville?"

Lois braced herself before scaling the especially high step in front of her. She wasn't sure she had the energy to give Clark the explanation he as looking for. But it was her cloak and dagger act that had gotten them into this mess, and the feelings of culpability gnawing at her conscience were making a compelling case for full disclosure.

"When Superman first showed up in Metropolis a few years back, it brought every whacko out of the woodwork with one ridiculous claim after another about his true origins. Trask spent years weeding through the testimonies of every single one of them."

Clark leapt up a few steps, like only he could, until he was by her side. "And one led here? To Smallville?"

"As all things of this nature tend to. Face it, Clark, This place is a beacon of weirdness." At the top of the steps, she spun to face him. "The earliest sighting Trask found was here, around this time. Now you, I, and sanity know that's impossible, but Trask is neither you, nor I, nor sane."

"But apparently, very lucky," he said, looking just beyond her.

Lois shot a glance over her shoulder and then did a double take. "Where's the truck?"

"Trask must have taken it."

Lois threw her hands up and stomped painfully over to the now vacant parking spot. She silently cursed herself for leaving the keys in the ignition. Then loudly cursed Trask for being an asshole.

"We have to catch him."

When Clark was finally back in arm's reach, she fisted a clump of his shirt and pulled him towards her. Bracing herself on his shoulders, she hopped into his arms, like she had done so many times before. It caught Clark by surprise.

"Lois, I can't run with you. Not when you're hurt."

She shrugged. "Then you have to fly."

"What?" He gaped down at her. "I can't do that."

"It's the only way."

"I can't."

Lois sighed and eased herself out of his arms, resting her weight on her good leg.

"Look at me," she instructed. She placed her hands on his cheeks and looked dead into his eyes. "If there is one thing in this world that I can count on, it's that you always save the day." Under the glare of the bright sun, her hair took on the red tint of blood. "Please, try."

Clark sucked in a deep breath and took a step back. He forced himself to focus at the task at hand. If he could fly in the future then it was in him somewhere, he just had to find it. He looked to Lois who gave him an encouraging nod.

He bent his knees, and set his jaw. Then, with all the strength he could find, pushed himself off the ground and into the air.

When he fell back down to earth, the ground shook on impact.

Clark got up slowly.

At that moment there was nothing in the world he wanted to be more than the hero she knew.

"I'm sorry."

Lois turned away. "We need to go," she said softly, before limping towards the dirt road.

"He's been here." Lois looked at the loft in horror. "Clark is he –"

But he was already two steps ahead of her, scanning the room with his x-ray vision to see if Trask was still there.

"He's gone."

Lois made her way through the piles of clothes and overturned furniture. She picked up pieces of crumpled paper and discarded books, studying them as if they were clues. Pro-activity always made her feel better.

Clark had set to turning the couch right, lifting it as though it weighed nothing and placing it back on its legs.

"Clark." She pointed towards his trunk. It took him a fraction of a second to understand the implications.

He crouched down and hunted for the lead box, finding it opened and empty on the floor. He stared at it dumbly.

"The kryptonite. It's missing."

"That's not the only thing."

He turned to find her standing as helpless as he'd ever seen her, the last flicker of hope draining from her features. In her hand was her bag and at her feet a pile of what used to be its contents.

He didn't even need to ask. He knew.

The scroll of Templar was gone.


	7. Entropy

1Notes: Thanks to everyone who took a minute to drop me a review. I got a couple about that pesky tendency my chapters have towards slipping into the grammatically incorrect – well, one of the many pitfalls of a beta-less fic. From the get go this was just supposed to be an exercise in writing a multichapter story - Typically I bang the chapters out in a day or so and throw them up on the boards right away. Its really the only way I can keep from getting totally sick of them – but I do appreciate the heads up - and I alter my originals accordingly. I'm planning to do one big overhaul when this is complete.

Anyway - this chapter is kind of short. And angsty.

Part 5: Entropy

_On Vineland past the candle shrine that melts into the street design_

_She waits for someone_

_Tonight she'll give herself away_

_She'll break apart all by herself_

_It's so easy how we come undone_

_Take me over when I'm gone_

_Take me over make me strong_

_Take me over when I'm gone_

_Will they burn for me?_

Candleburn, Dishwalla

"Lois..."

Clark watched as she carefully closed the bag, pulling the leather straps taut and latching the silver clasps. She looked around, as if trying to decide just where it belonged. After a minute she had found a place for it - the ground. Her upper lip curled into a defiant sneer as she lifted it high above her and hurled it down with all the strength she could muster.

When it met the floor with a loud clank, Clark winced.

Lois looked up, suddenly, her once sharp and face-flushing emotion ebbing away. She squared her shoulders, always a soldier's daughter, and began a slow march towards the steps.

"We have to make sure your parents are okay," she told him evenly.

Clark stepped in front of her. "I already have."

He tapped the crease where his eye met his temple. It threw her for a moment, confusion knitting her brow. The grief- blurred edges of her mind made the connection harder to find, but eventually it came, and she shook off her daze. "Right. Of course." Her gaze shifted to another empty space on the wall. She had yet to look him directly in the face.

"Look, I know the plan was to hightail it out of here, but now that Trask has the kryptonite and..." She stopped. Her eyes ticked back to the bag as she swallowed the last two words. The scroll. "Well, we're going to have to go on the offensive."

He nodded quickly. "Okay. What do we do?"

She turned towards the stairs, her right hand reaching out to the rail. He watched as her knees buckled slightly, and the bannister took her weight.

"Call Lana. We'll need her help for this," she instructed, her back still to him.

"Where are you going?"

She took a step. "Outside. I'll only be a minute." Another shaky step.

"Lois, we'll find it –"

She stopped dead. Her hand tightened. "Just call Lana."

And without another word, she was gone.

* * *

A minute had turned into ten. And then fifteen. Glancing at his watch, he decided that a half an hour was about as much as his sanity could take.

Lana had answered her cell phone on the fourth ring. She didn't ask for an explanation, just enough time to make it back from Metropolis. The steely resolution of her voice told him that he could count on her to disregard all speed limits and light signals. Until then, they'd just have to wait.

He had given Lois space, despite his own overwhelming desire to be there for her just like she had been for him. Part of him wondered if he would be any help at all. Her silence had been unsettling, Lois never the one to be defined by a quiet confidence. The Lois he knew - the fiery brunette that had entered his life not once, but twice with an explosion - never did anything quietly. He hoped she had been able to reignite some of that passion in her now dead eyes. In their short time together he had grown to rely on her strength, fighting Trask would be infinitely harder without it.

Trask.

Clark's fists clenched as he thought of the smile that had slithered across the man's lips as he tossed Lois over the gorge's edge. On the way home she had refused to let him look at her leg, which was red and swallow around the fresh cut. She had said there would be no time to stop. He knew that was because he had failed her, unable to lift her up and fly her back top thefarm like the hero from her world. His stomach tightened as he remember the look of disappointment she had poorly hidden.

Clark plodded down the stairs, the weight of the coming confrontation heavy on his broad shoulders. Raindrops pelted the barn windows, crackling like tiny fireworks. For the first time Clark noticed the storm that had settled in above them.

When he got to the doorway he saw her.

Lois stood in center of the driveway, searching the night sky. In the pale moonlight she looked like an opaline statue, stony and still, save her tattered skirt that whipped erratically in the wind.

"Lois! You need to come in!" Clark called out, his voice swept up in the low rumble of thunder.

When she didn't respond, he lifted his shirt up by the collar and ducked out into the downpour. He jogged to where she stood, slowing as he neared.

It was then he sensed it; The deep sense of helplessness that seemed to pulse off of her in waves. He let go of his shirt, letting it slip down his back. It looked as though in his absence, things had only gotten worse. For what seemed like the millionth time that day, time had worked against him.

"It's raining," Clark said softly. He was stating the obvious, he knew it, but he was at a loss for something better. More profound. Lois had taken off her white blazer, and her light skin now prickled with goose bumps. Raindrops collected on her shoulders and rolled down her arms.

He wasn't sure how long he stood waiting, but when she finally spoke, he had managed to catch up to her, and his clothes, now just as rain soaked, hung like dead weight on his body.

"He once told me that it was raining the first time he realized he loved me," she whispered, her voice a parody of its former self.

Clark couldn't help but notice that for the first time since she had come Lois referred to his future self as 'he' and not"you". It cut him somewhere deep.

"I mean, can you get more vague?" She chuckled, sadly. "But I never pressed him on it. I think I liked the not-knowing. And I wasn't going to force it. I felt like we would have that moment where the stars aligned and he told me everything." She rested a minute on the memory.

"Now I'll never know." Her was voice so thick with regret she almost choked on it.

Lois turned to him finally, eyes still skyward. Her hair, a wet mess of tangles, clung to her cheeks. Her eyes were red-rimmed and dull.

"I should have listened..." She bit her bottom lip as it began to quiver. "I came back to save him, and I ...I lost him anyway."

Clark's heart twisted. "Lois," he begged her to look at him.

Slowly, her eyes settled on his. As if struck, she wobbled back, a look of panic flashing across her face. She quickly spun away.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "It's hard to look at you right now." Her volume wavered, the composure she struggled to maintain begning to crack around the edges. His likeness to his future self, something that had once been a comfort, was now a painful reminder of a life that had slipped away .

Lois ran her hands up and down her arms, and shivered. She looked minutes away from hypothermia. He wished he could somehow convince her to go back inside.

Clark moved closer. "We'll find Trask," he assured her.

"No, we won't," she dismissed flatly, her bluntness surpirising him. "I know I'm supposed to be strong, but I'm tired. I'm just...tired.." The wind shifted, rain sluiced down in sheets.

Clark took another step forward, and the protective distance between them crumbled. "Would it be so bad? If you stayed here."

She snapped around, blind sided by his question. "This is her time, Clark. Her life. Not mine. I'm just borrowing it." She took a breath and shook her head. "I don't belong here."

He felt himself moving forward as his confession tumbled out. "Yes, you do. You belong with me." She shot him a look that he couldn't read, but suspected the future Clark could. "I know I'm not him, but I could be. You could show me."

And he believed it. More than anything, he wanted to be the person she knew. The person she believed in. The person she...

"I love you," he confessed.

Lightning streaked a jagged line of white against the black sky, a defining clap of thunder on its heels. Clark's hand clutched the sopping fabric of his shirt just above his heart and he felt it jackhammer against his palm.

His words hung between them, and tension hummed loudly in the air. Lois blinked away the rain and tried to focus. Soon there was a vague look of recognition. Or maybe self- delusion. Her mind was twisting him into the memories that kept her moving forward.

"Clark?" she asked, her voice stripped raw. She was seeing what she wanted to see. Needed to see.

And he was going to let her.

"I love you," he repeated softly.

Her eyes, wet with tears and clouded with confusion, searched his face wildily. Finally her hand rose, slowly, and settled on his cheek.

Clark felt restraint snap like a frayed rope. He stepped forward and captured her lips with his own. Lois froze, and he felt her rain-chilled body tense against his own. She mumbled something against his lips, something that felt like "I know" before finally succumbing. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her as close as her could manage.

Clark took Lois in, selfishly. He indulged in each kiss, each touch, knowing that every part of her was with someone else.

But he didn't care. That person had let her go, something he never planned on doing.

Dark clouds swallowed the moon, and darkness enveloped the Kent farm as the two clung desperately to each other while rain fell all around them.

* * *

Metropolis 2014

"I'm going."

Superman stood resolute, his feet planted firmly on the white tile floor of the clinic-like office. It had only taken him a moment to sift through the Dr. Klein's explanation of the Scroll's powers - and deficiencies - before he had, faster than a speeding bullet, landed soundly and unmoveably on a course of action. His quick-thinking and firmness in the face of danger were, after all, two of the many things that made him a hero, so Chloe wasn't surprised.

She was, however, marveling at the badness of the idea.

"You can't be serious."

He folded his arms tightly across the emblazoned red S. "I am."

Chloe sighed, tucking two loose strands of her strawberry blond hair behind her ears. She felt a light buzz on her hip, immediately recognizing it as a plea from her editor. She didn't bother to confirm the fact, flicking off the pager without so much as a look.

"Dr. Klein?" Chloe asked, fishing for assistance.

The old man's lips tightened into a sober frown. He scratched the back of his neck roughly before heading towards the bullet-gray filing cabinet by the door.

"There are many dangers that present themselves, Superman. The success rate is very low, I'm afraid. We have done a number of experiments, trials runs if you will, with the scrolls. All have resulted in ..." Dr. Klein trailed off as he searched for the right word. He finally settled on "Complications," icing Chloe's spine.

Hopped up on the granite counter, she dangled her legs over the edge. "Well, maybe we don't need to do anything." She flicked the plastic model of a double helix that rested beside her. "Maybe the odds alone are enough to count Trask out."

Superman shook his head. "It's too risky."

Chloe let out a sharp laugh. "Now you're Mr. Play-It-Safe?" she asked, garnering a glare from the man in blue.

"I'll go."

Lois stepped into the fray. She had, until then, processed Dr. Klein's words in silence. Chloe could see the wheels turning, though, and one final click as she settled on something rash and reckless. Something completely Lois.

Superman shook his head. "No."

Lois' eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"

Dr. Klein nervously pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he continued to root through his files. "Ms. Lane–"

"Kent. Mrs. Kent," she sharply corrected him, her eyes pinning Superman as she did.

"Of course. Mrs. Kent. I don't think it's a wise..." Finally, he pulled out a large manila folder. "If I could just show you what we've discovered..."

"No." Superman repeated firmly. Chloe watched as his face betrayed a flash-flood of emotions, one's too close to his other self.

She eyed the scientist, who was now flipping through the contents of the folder, oblivious.

She loudly cleared her throat. "Dr. Klein, can you give us a minute?"

He looked up and nodded, but not before quickly glancing at the duo that still stood deadlocked. Cramming his hands into the pockets his white lab coat he made his way out into the buzzing halls of STARRlabs, closing the sliding glass door behind him. Lois waited until he was out of sight, and earshot, before launching the first charge.

"Clark, did I miss the part when you became my keeper?"

"Lois, this is way too dangerous. Sending you into a portal to god knows where?" Superman raked a set of frustrates hands threw his slickly gelled hair. "It's a horrible idea."

Lois rolled her eyes. "And sending the world's champion into that very same swirly hole of indiscriminate destination isn't?" She gestured wildly around the office. "You heard what Dr. Klein said. It's practically a suicide mission!"

His jaw tightened in irritation. "Exactly." She had made the point for him. "I'm not going to let you go."

"And I'm not going to let you die!" she snapped back.

Superman's stoic resolve softened as he looked at his wife. The stone-faced facade of the invincible Superhero melted away, revealing a petrified Clark Kent, stripped bare before her. "Please...I love you."

Lois smiled, sadly. "Clark," she soothed, softly stroking his cheek. "I know."

Chloe thumbed through Dr. Klein's research. Ten pages worth of guinea pigs who had ventured into one of the portals for the good of science. Each employee record read like an obit, social security numbers blackened out and "Lost" stamped in red ink across glossy snapshots of people who would never been seen again. She tossed the file down onto the desk and rubbed her hands over her face.

"So what's our next move? There are potential problems for both of you to attempt this portal-hop. It might be better for Clark. It might be better for Lois. Granted, it's probably better for no one. We have no way of knowing."

"Yes, we do."

The three tuned towards the door.

Lana leaned casually against the frame.

"Lois goes."

Next part: Nihilist


	8. Nihilist

1Notes: Ummm...not much to say about this chapter. Kinda short. There are only two more after this (thank god).

Part 6: Nihilist

_Tempus Fugit (Time flies.)_

A tinny buzz signaled the end of the dry cycle, snapping Lois out of her daze.

She combed her hands through her wet hair, sweeping her bangs up and away from her face, and hopped off the washing machine. The Kent's bathroom was warm with a mix of residual shower steam and hot air that escaped through the drier vents. With the loud rumbled of tumbling clothes finally over, she could hear the rain still drumming the glass panes. As Lois moved to pull the blinds, a gust of icy wind slipped through the cracked window and sideswiped her. She shivered and pulled Clark's large, ill-fitting bathrobe tighter.

It seemed like she had just put her rain-soaked clothes into the machine. The job had gone quickly. Or maybe she had been lost in thought longer than she remembered. Time, along with just about everything important in the world, had a way of getting away from a person. If she had learned anything from her trip back, it was that.

Time and good judgement.

Lois rubbed her temples as her mind drifted back to her last encounter with Clark.

Over the years she had gotten herself into a number of sticky situations. She'd been kidnaped. Trapped in meat lockers, safes, trunks, and just about anything else with a latch and limited supply of oxygen. She'd been bound and gagged. Held at gunpoint enough times to warrant an honorary membership in the NRA. Lois knew from screwed. But with one small kiss she had hit the mother-load.

Lois had maneuvered herself out of Clark's embrace with clumsy sweep of the arm and rushed excuse. She was relieved when he let her go with little protest, suggesting instead that he try to get his parents out of town and away from Trask.

She'd rushed into the house, and up to the bathroom, dropping to her knees at the toilet just in time, the vomit making a wet slap as it hit porcelain. She wanted to blame the nausea on aftershocks from the portal, but she knew guilt had played a large part.

But a hot shower had given her a fresh perspective. Wallowing was for the weak. In the face of apparent hopelessness Lois Lane was going to do what she did best. She would clench her jaw, set her shoulders and use the hot rush of adrenaline that fear provided her to her advantage.

And nothing was more frightening than the prospect of never getting home.

She popped open the drier door and grabbed her blazer, making sure to avoid the brass pocket zippers, which would be a degree above scorching. She slung it over the towel rack to cool, and turned her attention to her skirt. Two trips through the washing machine had failed to remove the crimson flecks of blood, but managed to pull the thigh-high rip just a little longer.

Lois sighed, moving towards the linen closet. She grabbed Martha's sewing kit and ran a quick set of stitches through the tear. Not the best patch job, but it would have to do.

A soft knock on the doorframe and Clark was suddenly beside her. He had changed into some dry clothes, but his hair was still slick with rain. He gave her a quick once over, his eyes lingering a second too long on the deep scooping neckline of her robe.

She shot him a nervous smile and instinctively pulled the terrycloth closer.

"Hey," he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets and rocking on his heels. "Um. My parents just left."

"How did you manage that?"

"I lied. I told them my aunt had called," he said, taking his cell phone out of his pocket. "I just have to call my aunt and think up a convincing reason for her to keep them there."

Lois nodded. "Not that I'm advocating dishonesty, but it's better that they're not mixed up in this."

"Yeah," Clark agreed, setting his phone down on the sink. He reached out and took her hand, running his thumb along her palm. "We can handle this. Together."

Lois slowly took her hand back. "We need to talk about what happened outside..."

A smile tugged at the corners of Clark's lips at the mention of the kiss.

She took a deep breath and released it slowly, bracing herself. "It was a mistake."

Clark blinked in surprise, clearly not prepared for that. "What?"

"I wasn't thinking strait. Trask had stolen the scroll, I was convinced I would never get back to my husband –"

"I am your husband," Clark cut in.

"No. You're not," Lois corrected. "Clark, I care about you. I do. But I came back here to make sure that he wasn't taken away from me - that I wouldn't lose him." Her eyes narrowed as a steely resolution pulled her muscles tense. "In a moment of weakness I lost sight of that. Trust me when I say it will never happen again."

They stood in silence as the words sunk in. Finally Clark nodded sadly.

Lois felt the sharp pang of guilt. She thought for a moment and then asked, "When you kissed me, did you feel something?"

"Of course I did," he countered, defensively.

"No. I mean, did you feel like it was off? Like it was good, but lacking...?"

When he didn't answer, she took it as a yes.

"I'm not her, Clark. I'm not the one you're supposed to be with."

"But I want you to be..." Clark's voice cracked.

Lois knew that what he really loved was the idea of her. She knew she was the easy choice - the sure bet. She was someone who understood who he was and accepted him fully. Because of that she was the one thing he always wanted.

But she wasn't his.

"Clark I -" Lois stopped short when he saw his attention pulled sharply to the window. "What?"

"It's Lana," Clark explained. Lois wondered if that update was courtesy of his super-hearing or x-ray vision. She figured it was probably a little bit fo both. He shook his head. "I still don't understand why you wanted me to call her."

"We need her help." When Clark shot her a look of unmasked skepticism, she patted his arm and assured him, "It'll all fall into place."

He began to leave, throwing a look over his shoulder when he realized she wasn't following.

Lois pulled on her robe. "I'm just going to get dressed and I'll meet you two in a minute."

He nodded and she watched him go, hoping that their conversation had been enough. Somehow, though, she doubted the subject was closed.

Suddenly, Lois heard the buzz of Clark's phone as it vibrated on the sink. By the third ring she had finally scooped it up and flipped it open to the ID screen.

Incoming call. Lois.

She bit her lip and made sure she was alone before thumbing the end button, cutting the call mid-ring.

She slipped out of the robe and into her newly dried clothes. She looked out the window to find that the rain had stopped.

The storm had passed.

The one outside at least.

* * *

When Lois got to the driveway, she was immediately met with the sympathy-laden eyes of Lana Lang.

"Oh god, Lois. Are you okay?"

Lois waved off her concern. "Yeah. Great. Flesh wounds really bring out my eyes," she deadpanned.

Lana laughed nervously. She jerked a thumb in Clark's direction. "He brought me up to speed. I want you to know I'll do whatever I can to help. Just tell me the plan."

Lois finished securing the last button on her jacket. "Well, we would if we had one of those." Off Lana's look, she just shrugged.

"He's got my car, couldn't we have the police run the plates?" Clark asked.

It was a plan. It just wasn't a very good one.

Lois shook her head. "Cops ask too many questions."

"But they have the resources," Clark argued.

"Yeah, the resources to scan my driver's license with the print date of 2008."

"We could call Lex," Lana suggested. She looked down at her watch. "He should be home."

Lois stiffened. "Clark, you told me he was out of the country on business."

Clark shrugged. "I thought he was."

"He flew back tonight," Lana explained. "He left me a voicemail."

"Oh god..." Lois pinched the bridge of her nose. Just when she thought things couldn't possibly get any worse...

With her track record, she really should have known better.

Lana looked immediately remorseful, not fully understanding what she had done wrong, but sorry none the less. "Did I say something?"

Lois ignored her, launching into full pace mode. "Okay, we need to go. We need to go now!"

"Lois?" Clark glanced at Lana, who mouthed 'I have no idea.;' He stepped forward, catching Lois by the arm. "Lois..."

But Lois kept going. "We could take Lana's car–" She stopped short. "Damnit! He's probably there..."

Clark's patience was waning. "Who's where?" He grabbed her by the shoulders. "Lois! What's going on?"

Lois looked up, acknowledging him, finally. She frowned. Always the barer of bad news.

"It was Lex. Lex sent Trask back."

Next part: Slipshod


	9. Slipshod

1

Notes: Okay - wrote this one fast, but REALLY want this story to be over. Big thanks to everyone who still reads it, and gives me awesome feedback.

Part 7: Slipshod

"_Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead." - Poor Richard's Almanac_

Clark released her arm as the implication finally hit him. Fast and hard like a speeding truck.

His best friend was the Judas.

"Lex sent him back? Why?" The question caught in his throat.

Lois sighed. Her dark eyes glimmered with apology. "Look, I have answers for you, I do. But what I don't have is time. We'll deal with the whys later."

She turned back to Lana, who stood processing the information in stunned silence. Her head was down and her eyes blinked a steady beat. She was, no doubt, replaying every scene in her mind, trying to put together a puzzle that just wouldn't fit. It was the only thing a person could do when a revelation like that sent the world spinning. Lois had experience.

She touched her on the shoulder, snapping her from her daze. "I need you to go up to the loft and get my shoulder bag," she instructed. "You'll see an empty lead box next to Clark's storage chest. Bring that, too."

A moment later Lana had disappeared through the large double doors of the barn.

In the short time between finding out Lex was back in town and the present, Lois had come up with a course of action. Snap decisions were traditionally her Achilles heel, but in this particular instance received the distinction of saving grace. She was sure the plan would work. Now she just had to convince Clark of that.

The clouds had finally begun to break, revealing the last of the sun's muted rays. Just enough light to see by.

Lois took Clark's hand and forced his eyes to hers.

"Clark, listen to me carefully. I know this is a lot to process right now, but Trask needs to be our first priority. We need to stop him." She paused, simply because the weight of what she was about to say deserved it. "You need to fly."

A look of shame flashed on Clark's face as he tried to pull away. "You know I can't," he mumbled, miserably.

"Yes, you can," she assured him. She squeezed his hand a little tighter. "Superman isn't something you learned how to do. It was something that was inside of you the whole time. Find it, Clark." She looked pleadingly at the boy in his blue t-shirt and red coat - an echo of his future self.

He looked up at the sky, apprehensively. His eyes clouded with doubt.

"This is it." Lois' voice walked a fine line between steady and panicked, and was quickly edging towards the latter. "If we don't stop Trask, it's game over. Superman is gone. You're a marked man. And us...?" She shook her head. "I wish I could say we'd be together regardless, but I don't know – and it's not something I want to gamble."

"But -" He stopped when her hand touched his cheek.

"I believe in you. I just need you to believe, too." She gently pushed him back. "Now try."

Clark nodded. He closed his eyes and focused. He tried to find that place inside of him - that small part that connected him to his future self.

Just like before, he bent slowly at the knees, his muscles tensing in preparation.

And just like before he pushed off the ground with everything he had, launching high into the air.

But this time, he didn't come down.

The resulting wind whipped Lois' hair. "Wow," she exclaimed, breathlessly. No matter how many times she saw it, it never lost its magic.

"What just happened?"

Lois turned to find Lana, mouth agape and eyes skyward. She pried the bag out of her shock-frozen fingers and made sure everything was there. When it passed inspection, she pulled the drawstring tight and slung it over her shoulder.

"I'll explain everything," Lois promised. She grabbed the keys that hung from Lana's pocket. "Later."

Lana nodded absently as she stared at the clouds.

Lois gunned the Jeep's engine, jerked it into gear, and pressed down on the accelerator.

* * *

Cold air jet-streamed over Clark's body as he began to pick up speed.

It roared in his ears, a deafening drone. He reached his fists forward, as if it were the natural thing to do, and pushed ahead. He kept his eyes closed tightly, allowing something deep within to take control and lead him with a guiding hand.

Finally, he snuck a peak down as watched as the world whipped by him in a colorful blur. Clark smiled, widely.

In an instant a lifetime of doubt evaporated and Clark Kent could finally see his true purpose.

Hundreds of feet below, tending to his newly harvested tomato plants, a farmer looked up to see a man in blue and red streak across the evening sky.

* * *

Clark caught sight of his truck just outside of the gates of the Luthor estate.

He angled down towards the ground and barreled full force into road, causing Trask to veer off course. Clark quickly recovered from his crash landing, leaping to his feet and making steady stride. The truck was on the bevel, the right half sinking into a water-filled ditch. Trask wouldn't be able to right it in time, but Clark shot out the front tires to be sure.

The side door creaked open, and Trask staggered out. He cradled his head, the evidence of a fresh wound blossoming purple on his hairline. He shook the dizziness off and looked at Clark.

"Hello, Mr. Kent, or should I say 'Superman'?"

Clark ignored him, bridging the distance with long, confident strides. His attention was pulled to Trask's coat pocket, where a section of yellowing paper peaked out. "You have something that belongs to me."

Trask's lip's curved into a greasy smile. The one that made Clark want to rip it right off of him. "Why yes I do. And I think it's about time that I give it back."

He reached back into the truck and returned with the bright, luminousness chunk of Kryptonite he had stolen from the loft.

Clark reeled backwards. He feebly shielded his face from the meteor's stinging waves, as Trask stood laughing.

"It's funny. The one thing that connects you to your home planet - the one thing that made that long journey with you - is the one thing that can kill you." He stroked his chin, thoughtfully. "It's almost poetic."

The rain had turned the dirt road into a muddy mess. When Clark fell to the ground, it made a wet slap.

Trask tossed the glowing rock in his hand. "I have waited for this moment for a long time, Superman," he confided softly as he crouched by Clark's side.

The pain was unbearable now. It pulled at every inch of him, white hot and searing. Clark groaned and rolled away slowly. He tried to brace himself, but in the slick mud his hands slid right out from under him.

Trask set the stone by Clark's side and stood up. Clark watched through blurry eyes as Trask studied him in amusement. He glanced down at his watch, as if he knew just how long it would be before Clark's now mortal frame would give. As if he had it down to a science. Finally his gaze returned to Clark, and on his face appeared the unmistakable look of a man who knew he had won.

But just as quickly as it had come, it left.

Trask let out a low bellow when Lois' foot connected, squarely and solidly with his mid-section. He fell to the ground clutching what was surely a set of newly broken ribs. Lois laid another hard foot into the side of his head, knocking Trask cold.

"Payback's a bitch, huh?" she spat, snatching not one, but two scrolls of Templar from his jacket. She folded the pair neatly and placed them in her pocket. "Enjoy the concussion."

She was at Clark's side in heartbeat. He knew this because the thud of his heart felt like a sledgehammer to the chest, thanks to the Kryptonite. She swept the wet bangs from his head, and thumbed some of the mud from his face. "Are you okay?"

He wanted to tell that now that she was there, he was. "The kryptonite," he panted threw gritted teeth. It was still too close.

Lois looked over to where the rock sat inches away and nodded. "I've got the lead box in Lana's car." She scooped it up and broke into a run.

Relief crashed over Clark as Lois put distance between them. He didn't just see it. He could feel it. Like ice on a sunburn. A tall glass of water after a march through the desert.

He flopped onto his back and let out a deep breath. He felt his cheeks and found his skin was still hot to the touch. His shoulder throbbed, and he hoped the wetness was just mud. He knew he should try to assess it properly, but instead he stayed perfectly still, and his eyelids fluttered and shut.

And then, from far away he could hear the screeching of tires.

Clark used every bit of strength he had left to sit himself up. When he did, he saw that the Jeep was gone.

His eyes swept the road. "Lois?"

"Sorry." Trask sighed, as if disappointed. He kicked Clark in his bad shoulder, causing him to scream in pain. The force, however, knocked him off balance and sent the exhausted and battle-worn soldier back into the mud.

Trask staggered to his feet. He swayed as he reached into the holster at his waist and produced a pistol.

Clark struggled to get up, but found his limbs useless. He sat, paralyzed, staring down the barrel of a mad man's gun.

Trask wiped his brow. He displayed his hand for Clark to see, now wet with blood. "You may bleed like a man, but you'll never be one."

He took shaky aim at Clark's head and smiled.

"Are you faster than this speeding bullet?"

Crack.

The sound of the gun shot hummed in Clark's sensitive ears as Trask fell to the ground. A small stream of blood leaked from the bullet wound on his forehead.

Clark turned.

He saw the white knuckled grip of Lex Luthor still tight on the trigger.

Final chapter: Exeunt

(Note: The final chapter will be posted tomorrow (say wha?) Along with the trailer to the sequel - The Guardian. )


	10. Exeunt

1

Notes: Wow. It's been a long, crazy ride, huh? I checked back - I posted the first part on November 11, 2004. That seems obscene.

Some business:

1. I really want to thank everyone who read this and encouraged me to keep going. It meant a lot.

2. Since I wrote FT in little spurts - I'm sure there are some continuity/grammar/nonsense issues. After the dust settles, I'm going to go back and overhaul the whole thing - sure things up, delete stuff, add stuff - the works. I'll post the redux as a standalone.

If Future Tense had a soundtrack, it would be:

I Am a Highway - Audioslave

24 - Jimmy Eat World

Candleburn - Dishwalla

Stay, Stay - Kay Hanley

Part 9: Exeunt

_Stay, stay_

_Name the monsoon_

_My love's a stormy afternoon_

Kay Hanley

Clark switched his flashlight on. Its bulb flickered and Clark knocked it with his palm. Soon a steady stream of light illuminated the shadowy cave.

He had been able to convince Lex that what he had witnessed back at the mansion was a car jacking in progress. That Clark had been on his way to see Lex when someone had jumped into his path, causing him to swerve off the road. The man had pulled him out of the truck at gunpoint and, when Clark foolishly fought back, clocked him with the hilt of the gun.

Clark told the story with his eyes down, not fully prepared to look at the person who had saved his life - and in a few year's time would then attempt to snatch it away.

Lex called for a tow truck, and Clark thanked him. Once again his head was down.

He met up with Lois about five minutes down the road, where she had pulled off to the side and sat anxiously awaiting his arrival. When he crested the hill and hobbled into view, she jumped out of the car and wrapped him in a giant hug, tears of relief and apology watering her eyes.

She explained that after she had put the Kryptonite safely back into the lead box, she had spotted Lex leaving his house. She had no choice but to get into the car and drive off before he had a chance to see her.

She asked his forgiveness and he gave it to her. She had saved his life, after all. Twice.

When they got back to the farm Lois instructed him to go in and get cleaned up. Looking down at his mud caked clothes, Clark thought that it sounded like a good plan. She said she would meet him in an hour at the Kawatche caves where they would be able to create the exit portal that would send her back home. In the meantime she needed to have a long talk with the girl who sat on the steps of the front porch, as she had been for the past twenty minutes, waiting for their return.

Clark nodded and exited the Jeep, holding the door open for Lana as she slid into the passengers seat of her own car. He smiled nervously as she looked him over with curiosity, and a large part of him was very glad that Lois would bear the burden of explanation this one time.

The hot water felt good, but he found new places that ached as the strong jets from the shower head thrummed against him. While he ran the soapy washcloth over his body he noticed that his wounds were already beginning to heal. He put on a clean set of clothes, his second of the day, and didn't bother tossing the old ones in the laundry. Their fate was the trash can.

His parents had returned from his aunt's shortly after, blood pressures spiked and armed with questions - The most immediate being why he had lied about his aunt having called. He told them he would explain everything later, but first he had to meet Lana at the caves. He felt bad lying once again, but Lois had stressed that until she was safely back to her time, no one could know she had been there.

Clark walked over to the symbols on the wall. He traced them with his fingers, understanding each a little better. Himself. His enemy. His soulmate.

"We really dodged a bullet there, huh? Some of us more literally than others."

Lois' voice echoed in the cave as she ducked through the entrance. She had broken off a thin branch from one of the Maple trees outside, and had it gripped like an epee.

"I wanted to be the one to tell her," Clark confessed, to neither of their surprise.

"I know you did. But even you don't know the whole story."

"How did she take it?" He crammed his hands in his pockets and braced himself for the worst.

"Well. I gave her the same speech you gave me the day you finally came clean. Very affective. After all, you had been working on it for years." Lois dropped her shoulder bag to the ground and fished through it, finally pulling out the Scroll.

As if reading his mind, she added, "She'll keep it safe, Clark."

He nodded. "I figured I could trust her. But then again, I also assumed I could trust Lex."

"Well, that's an upshot of being from the future,. It takes out the guess work."

She unfolded the paper, smoothing the creases as she did. "Gonna keep a death grip on this one. It's not getting away from me again."

"Where's the other one?" Clark asked, noticing she was talking in the singular. He had seen her take Trask's scroll as well.

She smiled, cryptically. "Let's just say it's with its rightful owner."

Lois began to trace patterns into the dirt on the ground, following the scroll as a guide. "I know this whole thing has been kind of a wonderland tour for you," she began, making a long shape that resembled a backwards 'S'. "But I want you to know that you are an amazing person - a fact that you don't hear nearly enough."

Clark blushed. "Funny, I was going to say the same thing to you."

She stopped briefly to shoot him a smile. "Careful. The Kent charm has always been _my_ kryptonite," she said with a wink.

Lois stepped back and assessed her work. It looked like a jumble of squiggly lines to Clark, or some elaborate algebra problem. Either way, it made zero sense. But Lois seemed satisfied, tossing the stick to the side and clapping the invisible dust from her hands.

"What now?"

As the question left his mouth, Clark could sense a shift in the atmosphere. Just like the day before when Lois was first spit out into the cave, the air began to crackle and spark. Clark turned to see the spinning gyre forming behind him. It was memorizing - like something a hypnotist would use to knock you out fast.

"Well, that's my swirly portal." Lois held her bag at her side, looking as if she were about to board a bus.

There was a pregnant pause as the two regarded each other, unsure of what to say.

"Stay," Clark blurted, finally.

Lois arched an eyebrow. "Now we both know that can't happen."

Clark smiled, sadly. "I know. I had to try, right?" he joked, half-heartedly.

Lois stepped forward. "Remember, Clark. It might be hard sometimes, but you're never alone."

Clark stared at the woman who, in a matter of days, had erased a lifetime of self-doubt, and felt the need to say something profound. He wanted to tell her that she had done more for hm than she could ever know. That she made him feel like he belonged. The assurance that despite being so far from home, he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

"Thank you. For everything." Clark frowned. It didn't seem like enough.

Lois nodded and pulled him into a quick hug. She ruffled his hair. "I'll see ya around..." she promised. And then with a sly smile, added, "Smallville."

Clark could feel the portal. It had a pull - a gravity - that tugged at his back.

"It's going to be really strange, knowing about the future. Sitting on my hands and waiting for it to happen."

Lois' smile fell. She quickly looked away. "You won't have to," she said, in a near whisper.

"What?"

Her head was down as she slowly stepped back, loosening the ties on her shoulder bag. "I told you when this started, Clark. No one can know about me. No one can know the future." Her voice was hollow now. Mechanical. When she finally looked back up at him, a tear had slid down her cheek.

It made his stomach twist. "Lois, it's a little late –"

Lois reached into bag and pulled out a small ring box. When she opened it, a cobalt stone inside pulsed with light.

It hit like a haymaker.

Clark reeled backwards, overcome by dizziness. He suddenly felt as if he were on a high wire that was shaking beneath his feat. He struggled for balance.

"It's blue kryptonite," Lois explained, walking closer. "Simple exposure is relatively harmless - It's like heat exhaustion or an intense fatigue. But 4 seconds of direct contact to your skin and you won't remember any of this."

Clark stumbled. "What about Lana?" He coughed. And for a moment, thought he would vomit.

Lois shot a look towards a black wavy symbol on the cave wall. It was the one that Lana now wore on her lower back. "She's the Guardian." she said, simply.

Clark shook his head. Lois' words slipped through his consciousness like water through a sieve. What had she just said?

"You have to understand, Clark. Time is like a carefully woven fabric - one stitch informs the next. If you misstep, the design changes. The best way to ensure the future is by blissful ignorance of the things to come. I want us to work at the Daily Planet together. I want you to fool me with a pair of glasses. And I want you to fall in love with me when it's raining."

She removed the rock from its casing and working it over in her palm.

"I do love you, Clark." She was so close now, his knees began to buckle. "But I love our future more."

"Lois," Clark croaked.

She went up on her toes and laid a light kiss on his lips. "This won't hurt. I promise," she whispered. She undid the first button of his shirt and moving the fabric to one side, touched the stone to his chest.

"1..."

Clark's world spun. Images flashed in his mind in rapid motion, fading to white like a Polaroid in reverse.

"2..."

Darkness crept in. It snaked through his mind, and cloaked his memories.

"3..."

When the kick came it was hard and sudden, the sharp rubber heel of the boot hitting Lois just below the ribs. She fell to the ground, and landed, hands first, with a head rattling thud. Impact sprung the kryptonite free from her tight hold and sent it skidding across the cave floor. .

"Hey, Miniskirt. Pick on someone your own size."

Lois froze. She knew that voice.

As her counterpart moved closer, Lois hid her face from view. She suddenly caught sight of the kryptonite, a blue beacon flashing in the darkness. She crawled towards it, snatching her purse along the way.

"What the hell is this?" She heard her younger self exclaim behind her, and knew she had finally noticed the portal. As if a gaping hole ion the universe was easy to miss.

Lois grabbed the kryptonite, and stuffed it into her bag as she made a run for it. Without turning back she hopped through the portal, silently praying that three seconds had been enough.

* * *

When Clark woke up, he was met with a strange, but not altogether unpleasant sight.

Lois Lane was straddling him.

"Hey there, Sleeping Beauty. Nice of you to join the waking world."

"Lois?" Clark rubbed his eyes. When he blinked again she was still there.

"The one and only." She grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet. "Who was the woman?"

"I don't know." Clark rubbed the back of his head. He looked around. Where...?

Lois scoffed, loudly. "What do mean you don't know? It's sort of a policy of mine to get the first and last of someone who is trying to kick my ass."

"I mean I don't remember," he said. "A woman. Why I'm on the floor. Any of it..." He trailed off as he tried desperately to recall something, anything, that had happened in the past hour. Day. It was as if there was a giant hole where he knew memories should have been.

A migraine sat heavy on the front of his head.

"Amnesia? Again?" Lois was stunned. "Jeez, Smallville. This is becoming, like, a complex with you."

"I was down here with Lana, and then..."

"Then?"

He blew out a frustrated breath. "I don't know."

"Okay, well that was non-helpful." Lois scanned their surroundings, and stopped when she got to the symbols still etched in the dirt. She stared at them suspiciously. "You're not in a cult, are you, Smallville?"

He sighed. "What are you doing here?"

"Well since something has yet again control alt deleted your frontal lobe, I'll catch you up." Lois bent down and picked something up. "Hey! A flashlight. Yours?" Clark looked at it and nodded. Lois began again. " You called me last night. Do you remember that?"

"No." He didn't. "Why?"

Lois shrugged. "Honestly? I have no clue. It was 1 am and you got a yen for idle chit chat. Normally I would have chalked it up to the typical weirdness that is you..." She waited for his glare, and when it didn't come she continued, "But Chlo called me too. A couple of hours before. Equally odd conversation. I thought I better investigate. So when my last class of the day was over, I hopped in the car and drove down."

"How did you find me?"

"Your mom said you'd be here. But here's where it turns Twilight Zone. She asked me how my history project went"

"So?"

Lois eyeballed him. "Clark, I'm not even in a history class."

"I don't have an explanation for you." He hadn't meant for it to take the defensive tone that it had.

Lois rolled her eyes. "There's a shocker."

There was something about her next smile that was warming. It wrapped him like a security blanket.

"Look, don't sweat it. I've learned not to expect them when it comes to this town. Besides, we don't want to overload your already fragile mind. Let's just be grateful that I got here in time. You really dodged a bullet on that one."

Something nipped at the back of his brain. Deja vu. He tried to put his finger on whatever it was - something so close but still out of his reach.

Catching his stare, Lois cocked her head. "What?"

Clark shifted uncomfortably. "I thought I remembered something."

"And?" she asked, hopefully.

"Still fuzzy."

She looked disappointed. "What you need is caffeine. We'll get you back to the house and I'll whip you up a batch of my special drink."

A thought struck him. "The hummingbird?" And just as quickly as it had come, it was gone again, leaving him confused.

Lois patted him of the shoulder. "See? The important stuff is coming back to you."

He became aware of his quickening pulse, his heart beating soundly against his chest. Her closeness had set something off - something deep down and visceral. His mind had no recent memory, but something else did.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on the feeling. He tried to hold on to it, but it got away, and the thick fog settled back in. When he opened them Lois was smiling, her eyes so bright and reassuring that he couldn't help but smile back.

He wasn't sure what had happened, but he was certain that she was part of it.

And that one day, he would remember how.

When they exited the cave, a strong wind whipped across Clark's face. Clouds were settling overhead and in the distance thunder growled.

He shrugged off his coat and offered it to Lois.

It looked like rain

The End.

Will Clark remember?

What is Lana's role?

Did Lois make it back?

Where's Chloe?

These questions and more answered in "The Guardian"

For the trailer go to Devoted to Clois, K-site, or DTS


End file.
